


Toffee Luck

by Vaisra_Hecate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaisra_Hecate/pseuds/Vaisra_Hecate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a note and a cup of coffee at a shop down the lane. All Human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This is an imported work from my fanfiction account 'petite.poupee'  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  
> Type: Multi-Chapter Romance  
> Rating: T

The sound of the bell ringing in the quiet and warm shop reached the ears of the early dweller. Her hands cupped the mug lightly, inhaling the soft caramel flavoring that wafted into her nose. She sighed. This was something she could get used to. She closed her eyes, as she took a sip of the sweetened coffee, it did not scar her tongue and it was not that hot—for her it was just right. She hummed into the cup showcasing her delight to the natural flavor it left in its wake. She took another sip, rolled the contents on her tongue, just to taste it once more.

England air was cold; she noted that when she first arrived at the country by plane, though it still made her shiver after moving in two weeks ago. She was stationed here after a few months of accounting work from her company. They complimented her works that they were wonderfully accurate and she might even make a better income when she goes to England, they said. It perked her ears when the thought hit her as they explained it to her. It was a great opportunity, she told herself, to learn British or better yet proper English. She wanted to speak the language better than anyone in her family. It was something she thought that might help her in the future. She smiled at the memories she reminisced.

The woman glanced down at her table, the newspaper lay open before her and news of impending storms and fogs met her gaze. She frowned "Yet another rainy week" she said to herself the accent still thick as the words rolled on her tongue. Even though she knew that England was one of the most humid country she was still not accustomed to it. She had grown up in France for twenty years of her life; she bathed in the sun almost every day, enjoying the sun kisses on her skin. Her unusually light blonde hair was proof of that. She missed France already; she mused but shook the thought away almost immediately. This was an opportunity she, again, told herself.

The bell rung once more, this time it was the bell that catches the attention of the costumers who waited for their orders. The light scuffing of shoes behind the counter was very distinguishable if one listened carefully. It was something that this woman became so accustomed to in the first week she stumbled into this store. Her blue eyes glanced at the coffee tender, watching the white-blouse-and-brown-aproned waitress move fluidly behind the marble-wood counter. Mixing and brewing different blends of coffee.

"Order up!" The lady-brewer called. An old man in his fifties walked towards the counter; obviously it was take out since the girl behind the counter called out.

"Thank you for this" The man held up the brown paper bag of what seems to be his usual waffle and cup of coffee, he then, usually as he does, held out a pound—a tip for the cheery waitress, before heading off to work down the street.

"It's your usual" the girl smiled as she took the tip from the man. "And welcome, come again!" she said. The door bell rang signifying that the costumer had left. The French woman watched the girl retreat back to her counter, usually putting cream on top of pastries freshly made from the kitchen. This was the routine that played before her at seven in the morning. It was comforting that she starts her day watching the interaction of this cheery waitress towards her usual costumers. They were showered with smiles. It made her feel happy when she saw them pasted on the lips of the counter-attendant, it was something that made her day and her usual morning sweeter, she had to admit. She took her cup once more and sips her caramel latte. She then looked at her wrist watch, "quarter to eight" she said to no one but her, and proceeded to fold her early paper and leave her usual tip. She stood up, grabbed her fashioned trench coat, and glided out of her booth. She walked rather closely to the counter, prancing like a ballerina with a waft of confidence and eventually slows down—which was barely noticeable— just to look at the brown eyes of the teenager who was working diligently on her pastries. With a short nod, she turned her head towards the general direction of the door. The bell rang and fell silent.

The girl, suddenly, laid down her piping bag and wiped her fingers on her apron. She walked away from the counter in a hurried pace towards the place the woman sat. The second cubicle by the window, she thought. She let her fingers grab the crisp pound bill, the woman's payment for the latte, and the usual note it was left with.

'It tastes exquisite' it said in its usual elegant cursive writing, the girl sighed as she folded the note and placed it on her apron pocket.

"Have you gotten her name yet, Mione?" The girl called 'Mione' looked at her companion who was serving the others with the shop's usual blend. The girl with reddish hair color just shrugged at Mione's silence as she placed the cup of coffee down the table and smiled at the waiting costumer.

"You know you could ask her for it" the red-head told her. Mione raised a brow, inquisitively looking for some sanity from the red-head before her. She just shook her head and sighed.

"That'd be rude, Ginny" finally she talked.

Ginny chuckled, shaking her head as if her friend was missing something obvious "You could always pretend needing it for her coffee" she pointed.

"She never takes her coffee out" argued Mione. She walked back to her usual place—behind the counter. The ka-ching sounded loudly in the confinements of the shop as she punched in the necessary numbers, took out the change and placed it on her pocket.

"Did she tip you?" Ginny asked, setting down the coffee pitcher on its place right on top of the counter. She took a sit in one of the bar stools and propped her head with her elbows, leaning closely as Mione began to work.

"Yes, she did. She usually pays extensively rather than leaving the exact amount. Seriously, who would leave five-pounds for a two-pound coffee?" Her hands glided towards the piping bag and she started piping white whipped cream on top of the waffles. She grabbed two bottles, one of blueberry and chocolate and dumped them on the sides and top of the awaiting dessert.

"Wow, a three-pound tip. We usually just get one-pound at most, she's rich" Ginny took a swipe of whipped cream from the dessert only to be swatted by the hands of her friend. "Hermione!" she clutched her hand cradling it as if it was hurt badly. "That hurt!"

"Well, you should've thought about it before you did it! Now, look at it" Hermione scolded, shaking her head as she pointed at the ruined dessert. She grabbed the brown syrup and dumped them carefully once more, obviously fixing the micro-damage received. Ginny chuckled while rolling her eyes at her friend's complex behavior of being a perfectionist. She could not blame the girl—really, since she already knew everything about her every bit of her at one point, so, she just laughs at what seemed to be her friend's unusual antics—that being obsessively compulsive. Hermione would often argue that she was just an artist and everything has to be artistically perfect though in the normal eyes, she was just, plainly at it is a perfectionist and they would laugh about it until Hermione walks out embarrassed. But, today, it was unusually different and Ginny knew so she did not press any further.

"It was just a pinch, jeez, you take work really seriously" replied the girl named Ginny—accompanied by a sigh at that very moment.

Hermione did not listen—shrugging Ginny's lame apology and went about her work. Satisfied, she got hold of the plate and moved it to the awaiting display cage. She then took another one and repeated the process except with Ginny's hand trying to take a taste. There was silence for those few moments.

"You're lucky Ron's your brother or I'll do more than just swat it away" she mumbled but clear enough for Ginny to hear. The red-head's eyes widened at the revelation that came from her best friend's mouth. She could not believe it, or rather, not chose to believe it.

"You're still dating him? I thought you caught him cheating with a girl named Penelope" Ginny who was obviously shocked shrieked.

"Yes, we are. Why are you even against your brother?"

"Why shouldn't I? I caught him red-handed as he snog that woman and grope her arse. You're still my best friend, mind you. I'd rather choose you than tolerate my brother's actions. 'Sides you're better off with someone else" Hermione could not help noticing the emphasis on the word 'someone' when Ginny told her. She rolled her eyes and turned to get the other waiting pastries.

"You're brother is not that bad, he actually went to my apartment to make-up" defended Hermione.

"You mean to have make-up sex" This made Hermione blush. Ginny smirked. "I can't believe you. You're dating him because of that?"

"Shhh! You know that's private!" the coffee-tender shushed. She frantically gazed around the shop hoping that no one heard Ginny's embarrassing statement. After a few minutes of glancing back and forth, she took a deep breath and sighed. She turned her attention back to Ginny, her face in a frown.

"Well, we vowed no secrets" she shrugged.

"Yes, we did. But that doesn't mean we talk about it openly" she reminded the red-head. "What would you feel— if I talk about yours and Harry's behind-closed-door adventures?"

"Oh, don't start with me" she chuckled. "I'll even tell you the sweet details in it" Hermione sighed again. She still could not believe Ginny's boldness about this topic and it only made her wonder how they became friends instantly. Surely, this was common between best friends who treat each other like sisters, but private things should be kept private. She was no kiss and tell, she told herself that, but there was still this tempting thing to tell on Ginny. Sure, doing it with Ron was fun but she didn't know what did keep her doing it with him despite having major conflicts— pertaining to loyalty. Hermione pursed her lips, thinking deeply about those moments she had caught Ronald doing activities behind her back. There was enough evidence to break-up with the arse who called himself a boyfriend, but she could not do it, she didn't know how or was it because she was afraid? Ron was her first in everything— well not everything. He was her best friend ever since middle school. He was her shoulder when all the shitty things happened to her and became her comforter. How could she throw those away? Hermione only shook her head, erasing all the doubts in her mind. She looked at Ginny, and then shook her head, obviously contemplating what to say next. She released a deep breath.

"Really—Ginny? Don't you ever wonder about the word privacy? What would Harry think about you spilling all your sexual endeavors to me?"

"Well… I bet those two have already talked about it, you know—since my brother and him are the best-of-friends" Ginny's eyes rolled at the thought of the two male creatures gossiping about every climax they had reached. Ginny shrugged, terribly disgusted at it. "You're right, I don't want those two gossiping about how we do while doing that"

Hermione grimaced, "Seriously? Those two—should be dubbed as gossip queens" Ginny gave a hearty laugh. Hermione just smirked at the new-found insult. If the two, indeed, were telling on each other she could only wonder how many times, she'd put out a fit towards Harry and Ronald. "Those two should know better"

"You're right, Mione. I can picture how my darling's face looks when you tell him that you know. It'd be deathly pale and cute" Hermione waved the motion away. The brunette walked to the coffee machine and brewed her wonderful blend of chocolate truffle coffee when she saw a familiar man walk in the shop.

"Now, shoo. If you don't want Dr. Albus to know more about what we're talking about and joke about it"

"You know he is not half-bad at those jokes. He's a master of it" Ginny smiled knowingly at Dr. Albus, who in turn smiled warmly at her as he sat down at the bar stool next to her.

"How are you Ginny, dear?" the man asked. Albus removed his hat and placed it neatly beside him. He brushed his mid length beard and went to adjusting his cuffs as he saw Hermione put out his favorite waffles in front of him.

"Quiet well, Professor. How's the college?" Hermione's eyes looked up from the cup she was blending when she heard the word escape Ginny's lips.

"The students as usual... are what you can say—rowdy. Ah, but all is well" He replied with a court nod before turning back to his meal. Ginny took it as a sign to leave the man be to enjoy his usual morning meal. Ginny turned to Hermione and mouthed what seemed to be 'We'll talk later' and winked. The barista chuckled and shook her head at Ginny's persistent questioning and gossiping. She continued her work, stirring the coffee in a counter-clockwise motion to a clockwise motion. She placed the cream on top with the usual leafy image before serving it to the doctor-professor. The man only smiled at her and proceeded eating his meal. Hermione glanced at the shop clock and it read eight-thirty. She removed her apron and secured the remaining pastries she was working on in the display cage.

"Morning-shift over?" Ginny asked as she removed herself from her stool.

"Yea, classes today starts and ten. I still need to visit the library for the extra papers I'm working on" the girl explained. She folded her apron neatly and placed them under the cupboard. But before she left them, she took out the paper from her apron's pocket and placed it neatly on her wallet and then stuffed it back into its hiding place. She gave Ginny a short hug.

"Bloody girl, you really don't know how to rest don't you?" Ginny clasped Hermione at the back. Hermione could only smile.

"I'll be back by lunch" Hermione called out, and the door bell rang and fell silent the fourth time that morning.

\--

The afternoon was worse, the rain hadn't stop when she walked— more likely ran, under the roof of a shop two blocks away from her work. It was that day that she decided to forget about her umbrella at the shop. Hermione rubbed her arms as she shivered, her skin deathly pale from the sudden outburst of the sky. She looked at her clothes at a shop window, she was drenched from head to toe, save for her knapsack which she desperately tried to protect. Her bushy brown hair was terribly wet and tangled and sticking hideously on her face. She brushed them away, combing her hair in the process. She sighed, her breath visible in the cold air of England.

She looked at the darkened sky, silently hoping that the strong rain and wind stopped for just a few minutes so that she could arrive at her work. With no such luck, she grunted.

"Well it's now or be late" she breathed in deep and left her spot in a sprint. Her bag jingled as her chime wove with the wind and fell on the cold wet pavement.

\--

The fire-red umbrella was fairly visible in the dull grey color of the streets two blocks down her usual coffee shop. It was the afternoon break; rather, it was her end shift. She had been accounting the nearby jewelry shop's financials when the rain poured down heavily. She sighed, making a note to bring a pair of extra shoes the next time this happened. She did not bother getting her car because she was only in town. Her boss did not even mind that she went there from her home rather to go to their office just to check in and go back to her town. As she was packing her papers in her suitcase and as she placed her coat over her shivering shoulders she noticed a familiar figure glancing at the shops mirrored glass. The figure was checking her clothes for the damage— surely by the rain due to their wet look. She smiled as she deciphered who this image was. It was the barista from Charles's Coffee shop down the street. Now, the accountant wondered why the girl was drenched, oh, that was fairly obvious now— she left her umbrella. She thought. That girl would catch her death if she keeps that up. She shook her head apparently disappointed by the lack of self-care.

She watched the girl as she sprinted away from under the shop's roof. The observer sighed.

"Are we good today, Ms. Delacour?" asked the shop owner.

She turned to the voice. In her front was a man in his late forties, dressed in the usual polo and tie—cuffs folded neatly by his elbows. "Yes, we are Mr. Digory. I'll be filing them tomorrow for you" the French woman smiled.

"I don't know how I'll manage without you, dear. You're so much better than that bloody bastard who called himself an accountant" he said shaking her hand. Ms. Delacour just smiled and patted him gently on his old wrinkly palms. She turned and grabbed her case; she glided towards the door as if she danced on her way out. Upon setting foot behind the closed doors, she opened her umbrella, taking in the rainy scenery just outside the jeweler's. The sky to her seemed really angry and sorrowful like something terrible happened or will happen. Nodding to herself, she inhaled the rainy scent of the England streets and stepped forward, completely leaving the shop's premises. But when she took a step, something crushed beneath her. The French raised her brow and stepped back. She was staring at what seemed to be a disproportioned wooden cat. It looked hideous if one took a quick glance at it but when she examined it more closely, it looked really cute and unique. Satisfied with her observation, she bent and picked up the forgotten trinket. She then wrapped it on her handkerchief and pocketed it. With an assuring nod, she headed on her way, her red umbrella weaving into the crowded street of Charles's Coffee Place.

\---

The bell sounded with a hurried bang causing the costumers to look. A drench girl with bushy brown hair was standing there, her hair dripping rain water on the shop's welcome rug—shivering.

"Blimey, what happened to you?" Hermione looked up to Ginny who rushed over her with worry pasted on her face. Hermione wondered why the girl was fretting. She just got wet from the rain and the shop was warm so what was the big deal? Hermione's brows rose. She was fine, definitely fine— aside from on fact that she stuttered as a shiver went down her spine.

"W-what are you fretting about?" she stuttered her lips and jaws betraying her as it shook due to the cold the just went up her spine.

Ginny gave her friend an annoyed pointed look. It was so obvious and her friend—Hermione just denied them, face front. "You're deathly pale, Mione. You're lips are shading as well" she stated the fact, her eyes moving up then down whilst checking her friends outfit which was ruined. Ginny's head moved sideways, and started to remove her apron.

"W-what ar-re you d-doing?" her teeth chattered. She was startled by a cloth that covered her head. She glared at Ginny for the sudden action. Ginny shrugged her shoulders and motioned her finger to the employees lounging area. Hermione's eyes looked up questioningly and was about to ask when Ginny stomped her feet and pointed angrily at the door which read Employees Only. Hermione grumbled and started to walk behind the counter leaving wakes of mud and rain on the white tiles. Ginny could only shake her head.

"You know I only mopped" she eyed her friend. Hermione only shrugged at the gesture and continued heading to their lockers. She heard Ginny sigh heavily and what seemed to be a sloshing sound from the mop. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'll clean that later" called Hermione, reassuring her friend of less work load, as she disappeared to the employees' longue.

"Come out when you're done" Ginny replied. Hermione took one last look at her friend and the shop before she went into the white doors of the employee longue. She frowned when she saw the familiar face in the crowded shop with a revolting red color at its wake. Hermione's feet shuffled hurriedly and dressed away. She could not believe the nerve of that person. Why was he there after she clearly told him not to show his face for at least a couple of days? She shook her head, in frustration. She let her locker bang loudly at the quiet lounge and left.

A scowl was very visible in her features when she met the person face-to-face. Her feet tapped irritatingly at the floor as she waited for the other person to speak up. Nothing. She waited for a few more seconds and still there was nothing coming out from the boy's face, aside from the syrup that dripped on the corner of his mouth. So, Hermione decided to break the silence.

"What do you want?" her voice sliced the tensed air.

"I'm a customer here," he pointed to the half eaten pastry and gulped the food he was munching "it's not like I violated what we talked about" the boy looked up, grinning like an idiot as if he had won the lottery. Hermione's scowl deepened. Obviously, she was terribly irritated at his sudden appearance. Why was she irritated? Oh, yes, it was because that this douche decided to jump on a decision involving her. When she went back to her apartment earlier that day, there was Ronald, inside her home and was eating snacks from her fully stocked refrigerator while only wearing boxers—childishly enough it had batman's symbols all over it— as if he lived there. That shocked Hermione, really surprised her that the only thing she could do was glower at guy's foolishness and stupidity and screamed at him to get out and not show his face to her while getting her things and slamming the door shut right in front of his face.

"This is clearly a violation of what I told you not to do, Ronald" she said, emphasizing every word as if it meant everything, well it did mean everything. Ronald only gave her a blank questioned look as if this was not a big deal.

"What? You avoided my question on moving in together, I need an answer you know. My mom already kicked me out since I told her I'd be living with you and I need a place to stay. So I thought why not live together? So that we'd be free to have sex, you know win-win" he shrugged. He took another bite at his waiting waffles, wolfing them down as if there was no tomorrow. Hermione felt her cheeks twitch at the etiquette-lessness of her boyfriend.

Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples angrily soothing the crease that was beginning to form. "You do understand that you'd just be living under my roof? And for free"

"Yea, what's wrong with that? I practically live there already, got tons of my things there, you know" He chewed on his Belgian Waffle and took a sip of his cold coffee blend. Hermione just watched, her eyes twitching at the very fact that the boy before her had been or is currently dense to the ordeal. She was not ready to live with a guy even if that guy was her boyfriend and best friend. She did not even have the time to consult her parents on this decision. How would they react if they saw Ronald there in one of their surprise visit? Hermione knew her parents didn't pay for her apartment just to have a free-loading border living there, and a male creature for one fact. It was already difficult to not spill she was not a virgin anymore. Hermione felt horrible. She felt horrible lying face front to her parents.

"Everything. Just everything." The barista, exasperated, said with a fling of her hands sideward. "Why don't you go live with Harry?"

"No can do, his house if full pack with his college mates. Come one, babe. Don't you see the picture of us in one roof? It'd be tons of fun" the boy clutched her by the waist, apparently charming Hermione to say yes as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. Hermione sighed, how she could resist the person who is in need, even if the person was such a douche. The thought of having fun crept into her as well and maybe she could keep that as a secret as well from her parents. She could pull this off, she told herself. So, the barista nodded slightly.

"Alright" With that, Ronald stood up and leaned giving her a wet peck on her lips and left the shop, a few cents short on his bill. The door quietly banged shut. Hermione looked up to the closed doors still a bright red color weaving behind them, she waited for the person— whom she thought was Ron to leave, but soon the doors opened, and in went the lady with blonde hair, closing her red umbrella and securely placing it at the rack by the door.

Hermione felt her breath hitched at the sight of the lady, she couldn't help noticing the reddish tint that crossed the woman's cheeks to her nose then back to her other cheek. She looked down at the table, quickly deriving her attention away. She felt her hand tremble, nervous? She did not know. When Hermione was contemplating on the feeling she had experienced she did not see the shadow looming behind her. She only noticed it when a cough reverberated in the shop, her head flicked in an upwards motion and did not expect to be faced with what she was avoiding. Piercing blue eyes met her warm brown ones. The first thing she had noted was the light make up enveloping the eyes of the French, elegantly placing a mature yet alluring look on the woman's face. The reddish tint she saw earlier was still there on the pale cheeks—which were obviously from the cold weather, Hermione concluded. She—Hermione also noticed the elongated eye lashes, that touched ever so slowly to its counterpart, both barely visible because of its golden nature. And lastly, she watched the slightly puffed lips, colored in a soft pink lipstick which she thought smelled faintly of cherry—move.

"Bonjour? Is this seat taken?" the French accent wafted into her ears. And Hermione was mesmerized by both beauty and smoothness of the voice. "'ello?" she asked again. Hermione felt a tap on her shoulders and felt a shivering tingle when it landed softly on her uniform. She could not respond. She didn't know why it was possible. But she just stood there, clenching the already forgotten payment.

Ginny noticed this and hurriedly went over to the baffled barista and nudged her lightly before addressing the costumer. "It's free. Would you like your usual, ma'am?" Ginny asked. The French only shook her head

"I'll have today's special blend, no?" Ginny smiled.

"I'd be served in a few minutes" The lady only nodded and waited for the two attendants to move away from the booth. The lady slipped elegantly in the booth and placed her coat beside her; she then took out her laptop and began shuffling paper works on her table. She looked up once more, a crease in between her brows emerged.

"Is something wrong?" her thick French accented her English. The blonde gave another gesture, this time it was her brown raised in a questioningly manner, her eyes switching from Ginny to Hermione's figure. Ginny took note of it and grabbed her companion by the arm and led her away. When they had steered clear from the vision and back to the shop, Ginny pushed Hermione a little bit harder just to get the woman's attention, but with no such like she resorted to waving a hand frantically in front of her friend—who only was dazed.

"Hermione?" Ginny called out. "Hermiooonee?" she waved a hand in front of her friend again. She sighed at the lost cause. Hermione slowly turned to Ginny only to feel the inevitable blush running across her face. Now, she felt dumbfounded by this new discovery. She did not know how it was possible but the closeness she experienced at that very moment started to make something move and unknowingly changed everything she knew all too well. Hermione for the first time was speechless. So speechless that she even forgot the house's original blend that day.


	2. Chapter 2

If it was just a normal pelting of the rain on the window she can forgive it, but sadly as she looked at the wide shop's clear glass, her frown worsen, terribly. The morning usually started great—well, she wanted it to start great, wonderful and alive or whatever else you can call 'good' about it. She shook her head disapprovingly and turned her head back to her morning paper. It was supposed to be great not until her alarm decided to chime on a very early hour, thus making her sleep-in again and wake-up late only to rush her leisure morning to get to work on time. That she could get over; but what really made today awful was the lack of her usual morning coffee in her usual coffee shop two blocks down her town house. She can't believe that it affected her that much, sure it was just coffee, she can deal with that, heck, she can drink coffee at her office may it be latte or espresso of any flavor she desire, she could get it with one word and her secretary would go in a jiffy to retrieve the confection. But what really bothered her was the she feeling of being off, was it because she didn't get the coffee from Charles's or was it because she did not have a chance to watch a certain waitress? She wondered.

Tap.

Her head rose towards the sound, she scowled heavily as she looked at the man—who obviously didn't know the word quiet and respect— persistently knocking on the glass window beside her in a bakery one street from her office. The French shook her head disapprovingly and shooed away the man, who was obviously begging for food, sad as it was, and turned her gaze back at her morning paper—a cup of black coffee in hand. She sighed, "Mon dieu" she muttered as she heard another sickening tick at the shop's window and a loud shout of 'French Bread' from the buyers that crowded the shop that early morning. Her brows knitted immensely, maybe even twitched madly, and then she banged her paper down the table. That. Was. It. She stood up—begrudgingly, grabbed her morning paper, fished out her wallet, took two bills of crisp pound, left it there by her unfinished coffee and went out the door, quick as she could. The shop's door banged rather loudly but not too loud to startle the other costumers. She slipped out there as if she never even step foot inside and the day in that bakery continued on as any other day.

Her heels ticked rapidly and heavily on the pavement, she didn't know she was doing it until she released a heavy breath when she reached her car. She thought back to the place; the building, consisting of one expanse floor, stood at a corner of the busiest street in the area, its doors and frames were warm brown colors, white marble tiles laid in the usual normal and clean pattern on the floor and a quaint statue design of a dog carrying a basket of bread stood just by the entrance. It looked cozy from the outside and the bread's aroma that wafted outside the small chimney smelled wonderfully— she had to admit she actually liked the smell of freshly made croissants. So, no, it was not the place that irked her—maybe she would even love it because the croissants were spectacularly delicious like it was made from home. It was about the people who went about their business there. She, apparently, wasn't that keen about crowds. Okay, maybe she could forgive the crowd, she thought inwardly, despite harsh manners and all; she could just blame it to the continuous unpleasant happenings around the area. She rolled her eyes at the thought. She fished out her car keys and pressed the 'unlock' button and her car chimed a soft beep. She went in, dropping her bag and coat on the passenger side in the process until she drove away into the buzzing city streets of London.

Her mind never did wander off away from the morning happenings. She would've trusted her instincts that day and never left home. If the clock hadn't scrambled up in the first place and woke her too early for her liking, she might have erased the thought that all this will not happen. But no, she continued on with her day, grumbling. She wondered now, if she may even get her coffee at Charles, since she was on her break, but when her business phone rang the very classy tune and her boss's voice came up from the other line, she quickly decided against it and drove to her office. Upon arriving at her office, she was met—well rather bombarded— by three seemingly persuasive men, if you can even call them men, she thought; her lips suddenly thinned. Those men, elderly in one side, were bachelors who seemed to have taken a very enthusiastic liking to her. She was beautiful, apparently, everyone think so, but she could not believe or tell it to herself. She did not find herself amazingly drop-dead gorgeous, she was just, her. Plain me. Although, she was very classy and she liked dressing-up even on a normal day, but that was it. She even wondered how she managed to get attention that morning when she didn't even apply the usual amount of make-up in her face and only managed to put a decent eyeliner and eye shadow to hide her stressed eyes. She could only laugh it off, how men drool over her, waving the thought away from her occupied mind and wove through the unanswered dates with a slight chuckle and a polite but firm 'No'.

"'ello, Fleur." Fleur stopped at her tracks as the voice came into earshot. She turned to her right, apparently meeting a dashing young man with fiery red locks. He waved a brown folder and smiled. "You… seem a bit dreary?" Fleur only raised a brow. A cough reverberated from his chest as he looked away for a moment or so. The man sighed but looked up again with the same jolly face he presented her a while ago.

"It seems the boss wanted more from you today" the man continued as he walked towards the woman named Fleur. Fleur looked at him, perplexed by the statement he just spoke.

"What do you mean?" Her accent slightly heavy on her English, barely, she managed to not damage the pronunciation of the letter 'H' and 'W'. The man, only smiled and gave her shoulders a light pat, then the smile grew wider and turned into a grin.

"You actually sound a lot better than you first came here… Even your writing is superb" he said. He then presented the brown folder to her. Fleur looked at him, her brows raised and her eyes lingering at his gaze in hopes to find a clue on what is it. "I was just lightening up" Fleur grimaced and only made her companion laugh. Ignoring the failing hilarious antics, her slender fingers grasped the folder. She opened it and let her eyes skim at the contents. She looked up to her companion with a questioned look.

"They are only numbers," she flatly said.

He chuckled. Fleur could not get what was funny but decided not to comment about it. "The boss wanted you to take these shops under your wing Fleur" he gestured to the paper before her.

She skimmed the papers again, flipping elegantly at the pages. Her eyes stopped at a familiar word or rather name. She eyed her companion then sighed. "These…shops? I thought the boss already have them booked to another accountant?"

"Well yes, he did but the guy got sick, pretty bad" The man shrugged, his actions seemingly portraying a man who was on his death-bed. Fleur chuckled at the extremities of his acting and rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"That bad?" she emphasized. The red-head only chuckled, his shoulders shaking in delight before he shook his head sideways. "No, not really, but since everyone else is pretty busy and you're still on 'probationary'" he quoted "… period and haven't gotten that load of work yet… you got the job"

Fleur nodded understanding the responsibilities presented to her. "Thank you for this, William" William only raised a brow and Fleur bobbed her head and looked sideways noticing the amount of people in the room, she sighed then smiled "I meant boss" she looked up and winked and the man could only laugh heartily.

"You start with them on Monday" he smiled and went off to the other side of the office. Fleur on the other hand went the other direction and into the familiar door and desk that held her name. She sat on her chair, moved some pile of finished paper work and dropped the folder on top. She mused and bit her lip; she slowly opened the paper's confinements and read the first word or name. She smiled.

\---

The clatter of plates resounded in the small coffee shop of Charles's. The aroma of the coffee and tea mixed heavenly as the costumers quietly munch on their personal meal. No one seemed bothered by the lack of one usual costumer and continued on their relaxing afternoon, well, except for one. The bell chimed and her head whipped faster than a bullet to see who just went in. She sighed heavily, dismayed by the old man who entered. She went back—though with a heavy mood—to her pastries. Her hands squeezed the creamer tightly almost ruining the pastry by the extensiveness of the confectionery sugar. Her friend only looked at her, her head shaking with utter disapproval. Ginny walked towards the counter, an empty tray at hand. She set down the metal object quietly and sat before her friend.

"You're awfully enthusiastic about that bread" said she.

The girl looked up to Ginny, her brown eyes obviously looking confused by the statement. Ginny only pointed to the bread before her and chuckled. Hermione looked down at the pooling brown syrup and quickly stopped her hand from pressing the bottle. She sighed and set down the bottle on its proper place and wiped her hands.

"I- Why didn't you tell me I was spilling it?"

"You were looking at it, why would I point it out?" Ginny shot back. Hermione only grumbled in return. Ginny released a slight heavy breath before leaning in closer to the counter. "What's up?"

Hermione only looked at her, perplexed by the notion. She shook her head and turned around, grabbing the ruined plate and setting it to the other side.

"You're ignoring me again~" her friend sang. The squeak of the chair resounded softly as her friend played around, swinging her legs like a child. Hermione closed her eyes, her lip thinned at the irksome sound. She willed her ears to block the noise, but it just continued, seemingly getting louder that what it was. Hermione shot an irritated look at her friend and the recipient only shrugged.

"I'm not ignoring you okay? I'm busy making the pastries for display" she motioned to the empty pastry trays.

It was Ginny's turn to raise a perplexed brow. "Really now?" she muttered.

"Yes" Hermione firmly stated. Ginny looked at the window, she watched the mass of people walk along the moist side streets just by their shop. Then her eyes wondered to the shop's clock. She watched the minute hand slowly ticking, and landing perfectly at the north. Her lips moved upwards. She knew why but her friend was not telling. She looked at Hermione again; apparently, the grin on her face did not go unnoticed by her frustrated companion.

Hermione wiped her hand on a white towel, before letting it fall on her hips. Her hands crossed as she leaned back on the other metal table stationed across the marble-wood counter Ginny was leaning on. She eyed Ginny, intensely "Why are you looking so smug?"

"She didn't come in today" the red-head simply stated.

Hermione was taken aback at the simple statement. She watched Ginny closely; her friend looked pretty sure about it. She had to admit that the girl did have a point, but, she—herself— did not know it was the real case that made her really off that hour. Hermione Granger wondered about when she started showing simple ministrations—that she did not even know she was doing— which lead to her friend drawing that conclusion.

"What if she didn't? People do have other business… you know."

Ginny smiled and grabbed the coffee pitcher beside her; she took a cup as well and poured one for herself. She smelled the coffee and sipped the contents, humming at the delightful flavor that danced in her tongue. She watched Hermione Granger, who in return watched her, seemingly waiting for what she might say next. Ginny sighed and let the cup down softly on the counter. A soft bell chime sounded and Hermione's head shot to that direction. Ginny smirked at the action. Hermione scowled at her—obviously very irked.

"You've been keeping tabs on the costumers who went in, just like that"

"I always do that"

"No, you don't…"Ginny paused then hummed a short 'hmm'. "Just today" then she added

Her scowl only deepened. Her eyes darted to the clock, she observed it for a minute or two before turning her attention back to her waiting friend "I'm going"

"Already?" Ginny's eyes widened as she glanced at the shop's clock which read twenty minutes before Hermione's supposed time out—which is two thirty. Hermione only nodded and placed her apron on the counter drawer beside the coffee machine. She grabbed her bag and went out the door. The door closed with a chime.

\---

Hermione watched her feet as she walked along the grey pavements of her neighborhood's quiet streets. She released another heavy breath, which she did not know she held. She knew Ginny, was actually, for the first time—no, not really the first, but for a couple of times now—was right. She wanted to see that French woman who actually ordered her original coffee blend, every day. She was pretty happy when someone ordered them and truly came back for it. Sure, there were a lot of costumers who seemed to like her blends but this woman was in fact the first one who complimented her greatly about it. She wondered back to the time when she first served it to the French. She remembered the dim lights of the shop as she opened them and turned the sign from 'closed' to 'open'. She knew it was going to be the same as every other day, Professor Albus Dumbledore will come in and sit at the counter side and chat with her while he eat his meal, with the usual chocolate-truffles coffee—which she made the original recipe for. It was timed, when he went in, it was around seven in the morning, and she took note of it. She remembered preparing the meal and coffee when the door chimed at exactly seven in the morning, she was about to serve it to him because she knew he will be walking towards the counter and will be fixing his cuffs. She was surprised when she turned around that day. Her brown pools met cold icy blue ones.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else" Hermione said as she withdrew the plate before the woman but completely forgot about her chocolate-truffle blend.

"It is alright" Hermione took note of the heavy French accent, but did not bother about it more. She watched the woman as she pressed her lips together, a thinking face—Hermione thought. She observed the woman who was looking at the cup before her; Hermione could only blush in embarrassment and started to grab hold of the forgotten drink. A hand shot towards the glass, covering her hands, stopping them from actually taking it away.

"If…it is alright, may I take this?" she said with a soft smile. "It smells wonderful and I was wondering what it is called?" she motioned to the cup.

Hermione's face flushed red, she looked down at her hand, feeling the hot steam of the coffee and the cold slender fingers a top it. It was rather weird, the feeling, but she inwardly admitted liking it "Um…" she started to stutter. She shook her head, telling herself to get over her musings and actually answer the question addressed to her. "It's Chocolate-Truffle Coffee"

The French nodded and looked at the coffee's list. Her brows met at the center, obviously confused by the pamphlet she was holding, her eyes glanced back and forth, seeming to locate the word. She raised a brow addressing the woman before her. Hermione read the expression and she felt there was going to be a question for her. Her heart started to beat madly, nervous perhaps? She gulped. She felt her hand get cold and sweat trickled on her neck. She decided to answer ahead.

"I-its… my original blend. It's not really on the menu, the owner hasn't… quite, really made it a regular, you know, since costumers usually like black blends without nuts or mallows" she nervously chuckled. The French nodded and released her hand. Hermione took it as a chance to retrieve it— the mug. "I… I'll give you one of the shop's best recipes? I'll just take thi-" The teenage shopkeeper—Hermione— watched as a hand raised before her, which made her to abruptly stop her actions.

"Non, it is not necessary, I… would like to try this, new flavor" her eyes motioned again towards the mug.

Hermione suddenly stopped when the words left the lady's mouth. She would like to try something new? She, this new face who happened to stumble into this certain coffee shop wanted to try her original blend? Wow, that's something you don't experience every day. She took the moment to study the woman. Questions echoed in her mind. What was she playing at? Why would she want a blend she didn't know what it consisted? Would I even allow her to take it? Hermione's thoughts ran wild. Hermione Granger was indeed nervous to be critiqued for its taste, let alone be blamed by the weird texture it offered; she could not let another person aside from Albus to taste it. Yes…only for the professor… but then again, someone asked for it. Her shopkeeper's instincts well rather code, would always favor the costumer, what they want and what they need. And in this case, someone—still pertaining to the French Lady before her—wanted the blend she was holding on.

Now, Hermione remembered something similar, when Albus asked her something different from the coffee from the shops menu, it actually baffled her, but eventually she agreed to make something special for the old man—because he is Albus and the professor is a very regular costumer. They had a pretty open-mind and fun relationship, Albus always urge her to try something new and this man was willing to be her test subject for the sweet mysterious confectionery blends. She liked it; she felt that her talent in mixing or making food was appreciated. This soon evolved into something; she and Albus made this thing very special, like having a granddad and granddaughter time. So, was she going to give this lady the pleasure of it –tasting a very nutty chocolate-coffee blend? An opportunity to make a fool out of herself? Or something that may even sour the mood of this very unusual costumer? Or would she let herself see how her efforts in month long coffee blending will play out?

She closed her eyes and inhaled.

Hermione, for the first time, took the risk. She set the cup down before the lady and also retrieved a Belgian Waffle topped with whipped cream and cherry on a tray. She, although hesitating, let down the plate and a silver fork. The woman patted her hands, lingering for a few moments. Hermione watched closely as the French gave her hand a small stroke that sent shivers to her spine. She wondered what it was. She wanted to know what it was because she was dumbfounded by the sensation of it. She wanted to ask about it by she decided against it and quickly withdrew her hands, startled by the crippling motion. She stopped for a few moments to study her new costumer only to catch a slight mischief and curiosity in the eyes of pooling blue.

The French smiled and uttered the most mind-wrecking tone, a tune so sweet that haunted her from that day on—that small 'thanks' in a language she never really did understand—made her heart flutter in delight on one misty morning. "Merci beaucoup"

The lingering words stated in French nestled in Hermione's memories though the echoes of it faded when she was startled by a loud honk. Hermione jumped back the side walk, gripping her heart in hopes of steadying its beat. She glared angrily at the black car, which looked really classy—Hermione thought before stomping her foot in a frustrated action. The car however did not move away and continued to block the way.

"What's his bloody problem?" she muttered. She tapped her foot angrily, waiting for the bastard to move from the thin pedestrian lane. Still there was no attempt to move. The teenager got impatient with waiting and begrudgingly moved to the rear end of the car to cross but before she even had the chance to actually walk far from the car, the window slid down.

"You're really are aloof at times, cherie" Hermione stopped, the French accent wafted into the cold afternoon breeze. She turned her head, slowly as if she was afraid of being delusional or crazy about hearing things. It did not fail her, though. A beaming smile was pasted on her pretty face, her blonde hair were barely contained by her brown driving sun glasses. She wore what she usually wore when Hermione knew the woman was working on the weekdays. She was there in the car before her, that French Lady who she always waited for and did not even dare to admit it—until now.

"Y-you?" she stuttered.

Her eyes twinkled in amusement and then chuckled, she shook her head playfully before answering a very obvious question "Yes, me" the silence crept in and both took in the situation at hand. Hermione felt numb, her feet did not move an inch, and she did not know what or how to react aside from her stuttering earlier.

"I'm terribly sorry, cherie, for the rude honk, but you were going to get yourself killed" her head moved to the direction of the traffic light and her hand pointed slightly towards it. By the motion, Hermione took this as a sign to look at the traffic post, and indeed the green was on for the cars. She gulped the saliva that was building in her mouth and suddenly felt her throat dry. "I… um. Thank you for the warning"

The lady bobbed her head acknowledging the apology. Hermione started to slowly move away, head bobbed low, obviously hiding the blushing conquering her cheeks due to complete and utter embarrassment from her lack of awareness. She felt stupid at the moment, she felt tiny at the gaze of the woman. She wasn't like this, a clumsy person, someone who often did mistakes. She was precise, she was orderly and she was the opposite of a person who lack awareness. She wasn't one of those dimwitted people who often take adventure at its spontaneity, she was Hermione, the daughter of very prestigious dentist who were very strict in their practice and way of life. She was the person who lived life the opposite of impulsiveness, she knew all the answers to every question school may offer but one thing she did know and did not want to admit that she did not have an answer to things she was experiencing now. Every since that misty morning she met her—she was not prepared for it.

"Where are you heading?" the voice sliced through the silenced air. Hermione stopped walking and turned around to acknowledge the question. She stared at her for a moment, coughed through her dry throat then fumbled the length of her knapsack's strap.

"I was going to head to the grocery down the street then head home" softly she said.

"Hmmm…" she hummed. "If you like, I would like accompany you… I'm headed there as well, you see" she said, Hermione just stared. The French laughed. "I won't kidnap you or anything if that's what you think. I'm perfectly harmless"

"Harmless, indeed. My parents did say that I should not talk to strangers. I don't even know your name" Hermione replied in a rather playful tone. The lady sheepishly smiled that turned into a light gleeful chuckle.

"I'm Fleur. Fleur Delacour" she held a pale slender hand out the open window. Hermione hesitated for a few moments before reaching out. She felt the familiar cold slim fingers that held her hand—unwillingly, she added— the day they actually first met. It was sensational and Hermione knew it was something she wanted to feel yet again. She felt for it, humming to herself, feeling very delighted meeting the same warmth again from her. Now she wondered if it was the same for her. Of course not, this is just friendly as it should be. She scolded herself for thinking about that and pushed the thought completely away.

Fleur had smiled at the touch, gazing at the claps hand intently before looking up with gleeful eyes meeting the warm brown ones of the shopkeeper.

"Hermione Granger" her tiny voice said. Fleur chuckled, her eyes twinkling at the same time but went unnoticed by the teenager. She sighed lightly, feeling content at the moment.

"I know"

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"What I meant was, I saw it in your tag… at the shop… when you are working, non?" there was a pause. Fleur pursed her lips, waiting for a reaction. When there was none, she continued. "Let us go?" Hermione blinked, her head suddenly turned to face Fleur's waiting expression.

"Oh right" Fleur was relieved from further interrogation. She motioned for Hermione to ride the other side. The girl slightly nods and walked to the said side and with a soft thud from the door, they drove off.


	3. Chapter 3

Her head propped down on the table was not a sign she had given up on the world, no, it really wasn't. It was just her, minding her own business—well… not actually her own but one certain blonde's business who was walking around her apartment. Yes, a French blonde was in her home. If the three-inch cream colored stiletto parked by her doorway were not a dead giveaway or the missing blue fluffy house slipper which was usually parked on a shoe rack by her door or may be even the set of brown paper bags settled on the counter table she was leaning on, well, she did not know what was the most obvious one enough. Why was she asking herself… if this was all true? Well one thing is for sure it was just good to be true. She released a heavy breath and groaned into the marble top counter of her small abode. She inhaled the smell of paper that was right beside her before muttering the words "she really is here". Hermione closed her eyes and started contemplating on the situation at hand.

Hermione thought about what occurred to her sick mind to invite the blonde over after their small shopping escapade at the grocery; just a few blocks away from her small apartment. So...why? She asked herself once more. Hermione closed her eyes tightly and seemingly, yet not intentionally, banged her head on the table—which was not a good idea— she had thought after the incident occurred.

"Ouch" she muttered. She raised her head and rubbed the sore spot irritatingly until she was actually running her hand— frustrated on her hair. She was itching to do something yet she did not know what to do. She was nervous about having this blonde over, musing with thoughts like if her house was a mess, or what should she serve the blonde, will she need to make dinner, or if the blonde find it rude to stay over a stranger's home, or if she finds something or someone she isn't supposed to find or even look at, in short, she was nervous about a lot of things at the moment. She did not know why though, but, she felt something really terrible at the pit of her stomach.

Hermione watched the blonde who was casually looking at the photos that were lined neatly by a small desk in the living room—in her living room. She watched as slender hands grasp what seemed to be a photo of when she was little and then continued on gazing until the woman let it down gently with a soft, 'tack'. Then she wondered still, eyeing the same slender fingers that brush elegantly on the table before turning away after finding something else of difference. Hermione was indeed mesmerized. She sighed dreamily, which she did not want to admit doing. She suddenly turned away as realization dawned on her. She was sighing dreamily? Where the bloody hell did that come from? Hermione groaned.

She stood up from her counter stool and began unpacking the grocery bags that were bought over twenty minutes ago. She placed them accordingly in her pantry and refrigerator. Nodding, now satisfied by her quick organizing, she returned to her previous place and began retracing the events that occurred earlier that day.

When Hermione sat fidgety in the car, she was contemplating if being alone with a complete stranger was actually safe—even if she introduced herself thought Hermione. Hermione glanced at the woman, whose eyes were intently looking at the road, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other rested on her lap. She watched as the slender fingers of Fleur tumbled on the cloth of her own skirt, drumming along the faint music on the radio. She had to admit, the music was catchy even though they were sung in French. She hummed to herself, satisfied in the silence bestowed inside the car. Hermione, now, turned her head intent on watching the zooming apartments as they pass by the crowded streets to avoid further—um, distractions. Though her eyes were occupied, she let her other senses feel around the woman who was right beside her. Hermione noted the soft humming from the woman; she smiled at the ministrations and continued on silently listening— yet unknown by the French. Now, it leads her to wonder if Fleur could actually sing. She heard the female humming and concluded that it was rather nice, but she knew it wasn't a ground to decide if one was an actually good singer. She let her brows creased for a few moments. Little did Hermione know, she was being watched, a snippet of looks were thrown at her a little bit worried in nature.

"Cherie, you keep frowning, don't you like the music?" Hermione turned to meet Fleur who addressed a rather important question. She blinks, a bit confused on what was happening for she knew she had not paid attention to the question stated. So, Hermione just kept silent. Fleur took a glance at the road and then turned back to Hermione as she stopped when the light went red.

"I could turn it off for you" she told the coffee brewer. Hermione, understanding bestowed upon her; just shook her head and then shyly turned away. She kept her eyes yet again occupied, finding the hem of her shirt interesting for a second or two.

"No, it's fine. I-It's actually nice." She quietly replied. Fleur smiled and nodded before turning her attention back at the road and actually sung along the music played, though quietly. Hermione felt happy and detached all noise except for Fleur's soft voice.

Hermione felt her cheeks flare up as she remembered the short car incident. It was very normal, if she just looked at it plainly, yet she felt suffocated by the emotions she just felt there just with a short look and a kind voice—singing voice in one fact— from the blonde. She groaned yet again and laid her head once more on the cold marble top; playing the soft melody of the French's song in her head, over and over again.

She closed her eyes, again, accompanied by a soft sigh for the nth time that day. She was utterly not herself. She felt weird, she felt really weird. "What's wrong with me?" She knows something was stirring inside of her when she was with Fleur. Was this because she admires the blonde's beauty and because of Ginny's constant teasing? That must be it. I like Fleur's kind face and nature. Or was it the mystery that envelope's Fleur persona? Hermione— and she knew it— felt drawn to intriguing things and interesting personas. She was a girl who wanted to analyze and crack open a person's nature. She was so entranced by a foreigner—which was unluckily Fleur—that she wanted to actually know everything about her. She was fascinated by how this lady cope-up in this British society in just a week. She felt amazed by it, like a story of founding oneself in a big haystack or something. She wondered about the reason why Fleur was here in London, she was curious about Fleur's work as well. She had developed this habit of finding facts about people just by looking at them, keeping keen details on daily ministrations, because watching people every day at the shop gave her interesting facts like how Missus McGonagall had twelve cats in her house and was constantly looking for a way to get more, or about Mister Flitch who was always in a bad mood because he couldn't get rid of his wife—she liked discovering new things and this gave her an idea on how to serve costumers well. It was even a way for her to know what kind of blend these people would like, if a person like Mister Filtch wanted his coffee sweet as an apple or if Missus McGonagall preferred a lot of milk in her tea. She knew it all just by small interactions with these people. She was happy by her work and was just happy to make their—her costumer's— day worthwhile.

Now, when Fleur came, she was having a hard time describing Fleur. She had and is still having a hard time deciphering what Fleur was actually like. She even wondered about what Fleur thinks about her own neighborhood or how she was managing interacting with the people in it who find it hard to understand her English due to her heavy accent, or if, if people were nice to her or if people were stupefied by her beauty just like her. It was a lot of questions and she wanted to ask but kept it to herself.

"Is something the matter?" Fleur's voice cut through her reverie, Hermione suddenly shot up from her heads-down position and accidently bumped her head to Fleur's. Fleur stumbled backward, actually falling to the wooden floor by tripping on her clumsy foot.

"Ouch" the teenager hissed,

"I'm sorry" Fleur quickly as if it was a second nature, said. She grabbed her head, seemingly in pain.

Hermione, as well clutched her sore head, letting the irritating pounding stop. This went on for a few moments until she realized Fleur was hurt as well and when she reached out, she noticed the laughing. "Are you alright? I'm terribly sorry" Hermione jumped down her stool and kneeled beside Fleur.

"Non, non, I am fine" she chuckled softly. "I gave you quite a scare, if I got knocked down I suppose" she said. "I am sorry"

Hermione looked perplexed by the casualty of it all. Surely if someone was pushed down by that they'd get angry or upset, but Fleur, she was still bubbly about the ordeal. She even said sorry first rather than Hermione. Hermione sighed and reached to Fleur muttering a short apology in that short sweep. Fleur only touched Hermione gently by the cheek and expressed her appreciation with a small smile on her face. The kettle whizzed out its tune, signifying that it was at boiling point, screaming that it was freakishly hot and someone turn the fire off. Hermione's head snapped to the direction and quickly turned off the heat and carried the pot of water away from the stove.

"I'll just set the coffee, if you like, you can watch television. I'll call you when it's done" she told her blonde guest. Fleur watched the girl, smiling and instead of sitting in front of the television, she perched herself on a stool facing Hermione. She folded her hands on top of the table and rested her chin on them, seemingly enjoying watching the barista doing her job. Now, Fleur was a very observant person, she was very keen to details since her work requires lots of attention and precision. She had to admit this, watching this teenager diligently working on coffee was quite entertaining, interesting, in fact! She loved every bit of it. She loved the way the girl would stir the coffee in an even counter-clockwise and the clockwise motion, how softly she taps the stirrer on the side of the glass for it not to spray unnecessary dirt on the counter. She liked how her eyes of deep browns intently looked at the coffee as if contemplating or might even been conversing with the coffee if it was bitter or too sweet. How the crease in the brow ever so often manage to invade her young facial features. Fleur did not know it but she was inevitably falling to these simple antics. Fleur released a satisfied breath. She was content on the view and she knew that no television show makes her this occupied and relaxed. She inhaled deeply smelling the aroma of the coffee being stirred in front of her; she then closed her eyes for further sensations to explode to her. She loved it!

She hummed. "That smells nice"

\---

Hermione looked up from her stirring with a surprised expression flashed on her face but as soon as it was on her it was gone. She had definitely told her guest to keep occupied in the living room and watch television. She was quite startled by the revelations she was faced that the blonde was sitting before her, eyes closed and lips pursed into a thoughtful smile. A few moments later blue eyes were revealed.

Hermione just stared.

It was the only thing she wanted to do at the moment, these blue eyes were calling her, and she wanted them the most. She studied them contemplating on the emotions that she barely understood through them. Hermione inwardly scolded herself and looked away, a flush of pink on her cheeks, and continued her stirring. She and Fleur were both enveloped in a silence they cannot describe as comforting. It was a mix of anxiety, embarrassment and curiosity, Hermione had noted, or she only had noted for her behavior. She was nervous, embarrassed and curious all at the same time. She was curious of Fleur yet so embarrassed by her ministrations due to nervousness, for she knew they were clumsy at every possible point. How could she be so, ugh, such a klutz? She told herself. And with her telling herself that, the spoon she held slipped from her grasp and clattered on the counter top. Fleur's attention was caught yet again. Hermione darted for the spoon, but as she had, Fleur also. Their fingers touched ever so. In this time, Hermione once more felt hot friction, electricity jolting through her fingertips. Her face also produced that inevitable blush. She quickly withdrew her other hand to cover her face as she started to look away. Yet, what about her other hand? She did not even dare move it in hopes that Fleur was the one to do so. Wish granted.

Fleur slowly let her hands dropped, with that Hermione's expression fell at the lost of contact, she suddenly felt cold. Fleur's hands gave her warmth that one she had to say, she wanted those slender hands on her skin again, but, Hermione berated herself, who in the right mind would want someone close, intimately on the other side, to touch her? But still would this be okay? She asked herself.

Fleur could tell something was bothering her new found friend; the Barista was a bubbly person and this fallen expression was not something that fit perfectly in that picture. Fleur wanted to ask, comfort even, but she decided against it. She took this short silence and glanced at her wrist watch. Quarter-near-six. She sighed heavily, it was time to go.

"I… need to go" Fleur softly said.

Hermione quickly looked up, her mouth could not form words as they opened then closed. Her lip thinned as she thought of something to reply. "I- I understand" was the only thing she could think of being logical and not awkward. It's not like she did not want the older girl to stay, she wanted to but what pushed her to actually let her guest go—even without letting her get her dose of coffee— was the fact that she actually did not know how to react anymore around the woman. Yes, God Hermione, you are such—ugh.

Fleur took this as a sign to stand and collect her things. She then leaned over the counter and placed a hand on top of one steaming cup of coffee. "I'll hold you on that coffee, it tempted me very much and I didn't even have a chance to take a sip" she said barely a whisper, with a smirk pasted on her pinkish lips. The next thing Hermione felt was a smearing hot wet lip on the corner of her lips and then coldness. She watched as the back of the French lady disappeared from the kitchen and the door quietly shut with a click.

She just stood there. Maybe a little bit surprised by the French's gestures.

Now Hermione sat deflated, stirring her coffee, hand propped on the counter as her head heavily leaned on it. She gave a breathy sigh, she was savoring the sensation she still felt lingering on her cheeks. She blushed, repeatedly, at the moment she caught scent of Fleur's faint perfume when the blonde kissed her. Again and again the scene flashed in her closed eyes. And every time she felt her heart beating, irregularly at one point. It was not normal.

The door knob jingled and then clicked open. She leaned back in hopes to watch who came in, hoping of course for Fleur. Her face turned so suddenly into a frown when her eyes lay upon a drunken Ronald. She watched as Ronald stumbled into her apartment. Kicking his shoes off unethically like a snake and continuously disheveling his clothes on the floor. Hermione shook her head, disgusted at the picture she have seen. It was not because it was new to her but she just did not feel seeing Ron at his current state. It was not rare that she sees Ron drunk and more likely looking like an ass that obviously went out and partied with some whores. Yes, it was never a rare sight. With another disapproving shook of her head, she turned to her coffee again. Ignorance was the only thing she knew how to react.

"W-what's that you're drinking?" he slurred.

"Coffee, Ron. If you'd like to get sober, please do grab a cup" she said, sipping her coffee.

"Coffee at this hour? You should be having booze" he laughed. Hermione felt an arm around her shoulders and the scent of alcohol invades her senses. She felt Ron's breath on her ear; soon sloppy drunken kisses were showered on her ear to her throat. She suppressed a breathy moan when she felt Ron's hands roaming her body. Clutching and pinching her … sensitive parts.

"I'm not in the mood Ron-"

"Who'd have a bad mood after you've fucked? Come on babe, it's been days since we've done this" cooed Ronald. Hermione sighed heavily, grunting a bit at Ron's antics. She shrugged as she felt Ron's breath on her skin. He was leaning closer and Hermione knew what comes then was something she may not want to stop. Yes, she may not want to stop, she repeated in her head, for she—Hermione wanted some at the moment. Being sexually frustrated was something a horny teenager like her can't just ignore especially since she had some very interesting things that left her wanting for some. For her, Ron was the next best thing even if she wanted to or not. So, she started to lean as well but when he was about to push himself onto her, a very loud ring reverberated through the apartment—the door bell.

"Don't" Ron muttered, his breath tickling Hermione's lips. She looked at him to only purse her lips in a thoughtful moment.

"It's Ginny" she lied. Well, deeply, seriously for she prayed for it that Ginny was the one actually ringing the bell. She silently watched Ron who eventually gave up and retreated—begrudgingly so, to his own room. A bang followed through.

Hermione sighed in relief. So, now that was done, there was another thing that came up. Who was at the door in this late hour?

Hermione looked up when she heard a soft shuffle of paper and coins land on top of the marble-wood counter. She watched as the lady who passed by her sat gracefully on her usual spot that Tuesday morning, her trench coat laid neatly beside her and her morning paper already opened. Hermione's face contorts to a very confused look. She patiently waited for some sign from the lady; even just a slight hint about the note but there was none. So the only thing she knew what to do was give the lady a reply with, of course, her usual morning blend of coffee and bread. So, Hermione grabbed the cherry topped waffles and made a blend different from all the other blends she have done. She hummed in satisfaction, eyeing her work while continuously looking for unperfected details.

She approached the woman, sitting comfortably at the second booth.

There were no words exchange just the slightest clatter of china to wood was heard. Hermione turned around, tray at her chest and retreated to her haven. She slowly placed the tray down and fumbled on her apron for a handkerchief.

Ginny who watched this waltzed in before her brunette friend. She cocked her head, a questioned look sporting it. Hermione just shook her head and continued to hide her eyes on her white cloth. Ginny moved to the other side the counter, slowly guiding Hermione into the employees' area. What just happened? Ginny could only ask herself. Why was Hermione, crying?

"Shh… Hermione what's wrong?" cooed Ginny as she rubbed her friend's back. As soon as both girls went inside, Hermione's silent tears came out; she knew that if her friend had cried, something really terrible had happened. Not only that but it was a situation that needed constant supervision and comfort. Both ladies sat side to side, Hermione's head leaning on Ginny Weasley's shoulder.

"Is this about my brother?" she asked, her voice loud with raw emotion of anger towards her brother. Hermione shook from her sobs.

Ginny waited.

"Mione…"

"…" she only continued to cry. The last time Ginny saw her friend like this was the first break-up between her brother and this certain brunette. Of course they were young and Hermione was still in the clouds from all the romance she had been experiencing. It was something hard to give up, and Ginny knew that. But, as far as that was concerned, Ginny also knew that Hermione had vowed not to cry for Ronald again that day or so help her. So, if this was the case then, she, as the best friend had to step in.

"I'm going to bloody rip his balls out if he bloody did this to you Mione"

Hermione's head shot up. Her eyes widened at the sudden proclamation "w-wait, it's not what you think"

"Oh, if it's not then… why are you like that?"

Hermione bit her lip. "It's not entirely about that Ginny, it's my parents"

Ginny's mouth opened, and then closed. She was speechless. If Hermione's parents were involved it was something very big. Something that she knew had little solution with her help "They, found out about Ron staying in my apartment"

"And? Wait, let me guess…Well, obviously they had a bloody fit, what do you expect? That they'll be happy to see that pig I call a brother?" Hermione stayed silent, her head dropped down from shame.

"That's not even the worse part, Ginny…" croaked Hermione. She watched Ginny's eyes widened to match the shock she felt. The brunette groaned. She was unsure if it was the right time to tell her friend about the problem at hand. She sighed. Hermione was someone who did not like to depend on others; she was someone who wanted others to depend on her. This situation did not permit her to do the latter. What's worst Ginny was the only one she can turn to in her dire need.

She pressed her lips "They… removed my apartment privileges"

Gasp.

"They did not!"

Hermione Granger cringed at the mere mention of her apartment. Now, that her parents took her apartment privileges, it was meant that she had to find a new place. And, where would that even be? She was generous enough to give Ronald a place to stay but look where it got her? She lost her own house.

"They did."


	4. Chapter 4

She paced back and forth stopping every five minutes before glaring at the helpless door. She bit her lip, her hand hovered before the wooden mahogany to knock, anxious for a reply. She dropped her hand as nervousness washed over her calm demeanor. Sighing, she walked over to her belongings perched on the second step of the marble pavement. She sat down and blew the hair off her face.

"I think I'm crazy" she told herself, the wind howled as an answer to her musing.

Her eyes wandered back catching a leaf fly by her side dancing in the wind, through the pathway she walked on just merely minutes ago. The pathway adorned with cool-hue colored tiles merges with the quiet neighborhood street looking so detached to the boring gray pavement.

She looked down at the paper crumpled by her sweaty hands reading the words '# 27 Siren Street Shell Cottage Village' written in a very elegant script. Her mind boggled at the mere memory of how this arrangement came to be. She sighed.

The house wasn't relatively big, but small was not the word for it. 'It looked cozy,' that she had taken note of the first time she saw the place from afar. The white painted home was not what usually old village houses look like. This was so detached from the series of cottage type houses she passed by earlier. Shell Cottage Village was known for its old English style houses that stood usually at the center of several acres of land with gates as long as their lawns. But this house, it was modern, like you stepped out of the Old English culture to an American culture. The house looked nice and Hermione could only hope about the owner.

"Well it's this or the slumps" her head hung in defeat.

She stood up, taking a very deep breath and walked up the door once more. Her hands shaking just mere millimeters over the door.

"Excuse me?"

Hermione's head turned, gulping nervously, to the direction of the voice. Her eyes caught sight of hair black as a raven's coat and curly as a porcelain doll's. Her snow white face framed with them. She was stunned. This woman in front of her looked like a genuine doll in gothic-themed leather clothes. Her features perfect. Perhaps she was godsend...

"I-I...Um... Hi" she started pointing awkwardly between the door and the person holding the keys. She was utterly caught by surprise that word could not form. Her words continued as air as her mouth was unable to open or close.

The keys jingled as the woman walked past Hermione.

...or just a snobbish bitch.

What the bloody hell is wrong with you? She scolded herself. The woman would actually think you're crazy or something. She added to herself debate. She inhaled deeply, catching her cool self.

"Um." Hermione tried again.

The woman turned to her, acknowledging her presence, a bit grudgingly— Hermione noticed. "I'm just the keeper. Well, actually this is my neighbor's house. She's away for the weekend so to speak" she told the confused brunette. Hermione could only nod. If she was the keeper, why did the owner tell her to come here on Sunday? Will she have to look for a place to stay until the real owner arrived? The smooth voice of the raven head grabbed her attention from her thoughts.

"You must be the boarder" she simply said. The door swung open and two dogs rushed out to greet the raven head. Running around her feet. "Watch it you damn dogs" cursed the woman. Hermione watched as the woman juggle the brown bags on both her arms.

"Mind if you could?" her eyes motioned to the bags she held. Hermione hurried to her side and grab the one on her right. After setting down the groceries, Hermione and the stranger walked back to the porch.

"Well, terribly sorry for letting you help out" the young brunette nodded slowly. She took in her surroundings yet again and noticed the empty garage driveway. The sinking feeling of being embarrassed enveloped her. Being stood up was one thing she wasn't used to. What was she going to do now? Will she wait in front of this house? Or will the lady be kind enough to accompany her while waiting for the owner?

"No worries" Hermione softly replied. "If you don't mind me asking—"

"Go right ahead, love" from her pocket, the raven head pulled out a pack of cigar, "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all"

The raven head took a breath from her stick and inhaled; momentarily after, she exhaled a puff of smoke. The cloud settling upon Hermione's face before completely disappearing. Hermione was a bit mesmerized by the action, by the way the raven head lips press the cigar in between pearly white teeth. Upon realizing she was bluntly staring, she immediately shook away her thoughts while a blush lingered momentarily "I was wondering, when the owner will be back?"

Black bore into her brown eyes. Sending a slight chill on Hermione's spine. "She'd probably be back tonight" she paused as she took a breath of smoke once more. "Bellatrix, by the way" she held out a hand.

"Hermione" she returned the gesture, feeling the strong grip the woman had.

"Pleasure" Bellatrix drop her cigarette and smashed the butt with her heel. She stretched and went back into the house. Hermione waited, her mind following her previous thoughts. Who in the world would leave a total stranger alone in her perfectly modern and expensive house? The owner must be crazy to trust someone she completely didn't know, even if the supposed to be boarder— her— was the niece of her old friend. Hermione couldn't grasp the idea but she was glad. Glad that someone was this kind.

The ring of the keys alerted her once again, pulling her from her thoughts and analyzing. When she looked to her side, the keys were dangling in front of her.

"What's that for?" Hermione said, her brows furrowed.

"Darling, these are your keys, and here" Bellatrix pulled out a paper from her back pocket and handed them to Hermione. "Instructions" the raven head simply said.

Hermione opened the letter, elegant scripts met her. They were the same ones as the one of the address. "Thanks"

"I'm going now. I still have other business to attend to" she said, her back towards Hermione. She was walking away, soon fading behind the hedge before Hermione could ask more things.

"Well, that was helpful" Hermione could only sigh. Bending down to pet the dogs that naturally rested on her feet.

\---

The house was quiet, it was something that she had been accustomed to. There was no one to wait for her at home so she usually spends the long weekend away from it. She usually spends it with her officemates, with Bill and Sarah, partying on beaches or visiting the Weasley's.

Her house was cozy that was sure but for her it wasn't home. It never was. Her home consisted of her sister and her grandmother. Her home was still France. The quiet streets of Paris and the small alleyways of the old cities. The clear sunny skies not the dark cold and gloomy streets of England. Sighing, she quietly drove into her driveway. Turning the ignition off. She grabbed her coat and suitcase from the passenger side.

The business trip was definitely tiring, even if it was just on the farthest outskirts of the city. England sure has a lot of old mansions, having acres of land the stretched to the horizon— she never complained about it because for her they meant big accounts. She grabbed her laptop bag and slammed her car door with her free foot. She didn't bother to lock the car and headed straight to the door.

Her keys jiggled and barks from her dogs reached her ears. Malt and Sugar greeted her. She laughed as her two young Alaskan malamute rubbed their faces on her legs.

"Alright, alright, I'll feed you" she chuckled. She dropped the keys on the nearest countertop. Her brows furrowed as she noticed that there was a note lying wide open accompanied by a plate with food wrapped perfectly in clear plastic, she glanced over the dog plates and they were half filled.

Her eyes moved to the counter and went to pick up the note. It was her handwriting and there were lines scratching out words on it. It seemed that she had forgotten something. Something important. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

"Fleur" she spoke up.

"Hey" came the voice from the other line. "Seems to me you're home now"

"Hey, Bella" she bent down and played with her dogs, her phone clutched between her ear and shoulders. "Would you mind filling me up on what transpired today?"

"Straight to the point as ever" Bella mused. "Your boarder came in"

"My what?" Fleur raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"And you seem to always forget important stuff" Bellatrix could only sigh on the other line. "I wouldn't blame you though, you were in a hurry at that time because you were running late. Well anyway, you proposed to take in your old friend's niece until she could reconcile with her parents about her apartment privileges or something"

"Oh, right, Rowena asked me over coffee. How could I forget!" she chuckled as she reminisced the short coffee she had with Rowena and Bellatrix.

Her mind wandered back to the old times when she and Rowena met- in France. Rowena was an old friend she met in college. Both of them studying Accounting and Business but Rowena was her senior by three years. They became fast friends with same interest, interest which she did not dare to speak of again. As far as she remembered Rowena was happily living in France with a man- who was sketchy in her mind even though she was a bridesmaid in their wedding- not until one phone call a week before. Apparently Rowena had to come back to England to pay respect to her deceased father and that her young niece was temporarily homeless and that she could not provide help for she was going back to France the day after they met over coffee.

"So where is she now?"

"You mean the brunette brat? She's probably resting in your spare room" Fleur walked around her house. Her dogs have retreated back to their own beds and slept, the house was quiet now. She looked at the time and saw it was one in the morning. The kid was probably asleep by now.

"Really, Bella? Only you can describe teenagers as brats, she can't be that bad" She went back to the kitchen and grabbed the plate of food and placed it in the microwave. The soft glow of orange illuminated the kitchen. She went to the fridge and grabbed a glass of water.

"I don't know, but she has looks and curves in the right places" she chuckled. Fleur choked on water as soon as she heard those words escape her friend's lips.

"Don't you even dare" she warned in between coughs. She could only hear Bellatrix's amused laughter from her phone. The beeping sound motioned her to grab the now hot plate. The smell took her instantly, it smelt divine and now she felt immensely hungry.

"I got to go Bella, I'm going to eat and head to bed. I just hope my dogs weren't much trouble for you"

"Your dogs are such a darling" Fleur could easily hear the sarcasm in it and only chuckled. With soft goodbyes she placed her phone on top of the counter. She grabbed the plate and went into the living room to watch some shows and rest before heading to bed. As soon as she was about to set the plate on her living room table she noticed a figure laying on her sofa. Her heart thumped, nervous perhaps? She cautiously approached the figure, opening the lamp standing beside her sofa.

Brunette as Bellatrix described. Only one thing was definitely wrong in this picture. She knew her, there was no mistake.

Hermione smelt food. It wafted into her nostrils making her dream of dancing fried chickens. It smells familiar like something she cooked earlier that night and it was tasty that her physical stomach grumbled and made an annoying gurgle. She stirred from her slumber, her eyes barely open to catch the orange light the lamp had illuminated.

Strange. She thought. I closed everything before I crashed here. She shrugged. She sat up from her sleep and rubbed her tired eyes. Her tired gaze momentarily looked around. Guess the owner's still not in. She thought. Her vision became clearer and the surrounding became vivid allowing her to take in the scenario before her.

Her eyes widened as her eyes fell in line with blue ones.

"Good Morning, Cherie" French, perfectly good French. Hermione thought. Her brain's gears were now working double time for her to comprehend what was happening.

"I must be dreaming" she mumbled. Hermione rubbed her eyes again only to find the woman still sitting before her.

"You're not, Hermione" she simply said. "I checked" she followed with humor. An awkward silence fell between them.

"My aunt must've messed up" Hermione said hurrying to her feet. But before she could bolt outside, slender fingers stopped her. Sending sparks that caused both of them to jump. When she thought the grip would loosen it quickly gained strength. Hermione stiffened immediately, scared and nervous.

"No, please, Hermione" the woman said, her voice sang to Hermione making tension leave her body. "Your aunt did not make a mistake. I am Rowena's friend"

She looked at the woman, worry in her eyes. She also felt embarrassed. Invading people's lives just because of a dumb mistake. She wasn't supposed to be here. Intruding her regular customer's home wasn't in her to do list that day. Fear also struck her, fear that this might change their relationship entirely. More to the pessimistic side of it.

"Fleur." Hermione breathed. This wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to meet only in Charles's and continue flirting— if that was what they were doing. The moment they have in the shop was the only thing she wanted, well maybe she wanted something more out of passing notes between each other with compliments and little bits of information, it was slow but it just felt right with Hermione. But this. Moving in with this woman was an entirely new level. This was way out of her league and this is something she can't do. She suddenly felt ashamed of herself, being so stupid that she had to stoop so low and ask for a stranger's help. "I— I can't do this. I can't accept your help even if you're my aunt's friend" She tugged her arm away from Fleur and started to gather her things.

"Hermione, wait, where are you going?" Fleur stood up and raced to the door. "You're not thinking of leaving, are you? It's barely morning and it's still dangerous to go out at this hour"

"I'm really sorry Fleur, for intruding like this. I don't know that you're my aunt's friend." she paused, running a hand on her hair. "This is so messed up" she mumbled. Frustration was getting to her and she didn't like it one bit. She grabbed her phone and browsed through her contacts. Alas finding the number she needed she dialed it. It rang once before her phone was snatched from her.

"No, non, non" Fleur shook her head, waving the phone in her hand before completely shutting the phone off. "None of this early in the morning, you are going to stay here whether you feel embarrassed about it or not" she firmly stated causing Hermione to jump back from the authority of the French's voice.

"But—"

"I have already agreed to take you under my wing until you resolve your problem. Rowena expect that I hold on to her hopes that you'd be okay" she softly said, reaching for Hermione's hand. Hermione did not dare to look at Fleur, still feeling ashamed of everything. Of her fucked-up life. She hated it but what can she do. Fleur was right, she had no place to go and even if she called Ginny that night, Ginny wouldn't be able to answer because she knew Ginny was one heck of a heavy sleeper.

Hermione groaned. "This is so not what I expected" she mumbled to herself. Fleur took her by the chin and raised Hermione's gaze to meet hers. The swirling blue in the French eyes drowned Hermione momentarily. Captivating was the thought that ran in her head.

"I'm really sorry about this Fleur—"

"But?"

"—but you are right. I can't go out in this cold and it's barely morning. I can't even expect Ginny to answer my call." she slowly said. "I'll be out here by morning" she silently added, even though Fleur heard it she let it slide off.

Fleur could only sigh. She knew Hermione was feeling frustrated and ashamed. Whatever she's telling the young brunette now wasn't being heard. "You can make it up tomorrow. We will talk about this again after we both had rest. I'm beat and you still look tired. Please, accept my help even if it's just for tonight" she whispered. Hermione did notice that Fleur's fatigue and agreed. She felt Fleur squeeze her hand, feeling assured she let the blonde have her way for the night.

She let her things down and placed them near the sofa. "I'm sleeping here" Hermione stated.

"No you're not. Use the room upstairs, next to mine. You are a guest" Fleur clasped their hands in those few moments and dragged the young girl upstairs. She showed her the bedroom. Cozy and lush. Hermione could not possibly accept any of this house owner's accommodation. She knew Fleur had money but this house, this kind of living style was too much for a teenager who had petty problems with her parents. She stepped back bumping into Fleur.

"I—I change my mind. This is just too much, Fleur."

"Hermione"

The girl gulped and went inside. "bonne nuit, Hermione" the door closed with a soft click. Hermione could hear the other door closing as well.

"Night… Fleur" she fell on the bed, as soon as the soft cotton comforter embarrassed her she went back to dreamland. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she had to straighten things out. Tomorrow, she would leave Fleur.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione looked at the mirror. Her groggy brown eyes boring into her own. The night felt so long that her own body woke up way before her usual waking hours. It wasn't usually bad. But waking up at 4 am, with only three hours of sleep, got her a nasty headache. Her headache was just one thing, but combined with the echoes of her and Fleur's conversation made her feel tired like she didn't even get a wink of sleep. She ran both her hands in running water, stares at it for a few moments before splashing her face with it. The grogginess barely left her.

She looked at the small window, wondering how long she stood in Fleur's bathroom. She could see pink peeking through the dark blue sky. Signifying that the day was about to begin. Morning came too soon for her liking. Without warning, the warmth of the sun penetrated the cold walls of the bathroom. She soaked in it for a few moments, running her hands through the dusted particles the light illuminated. Pausing, contemplating on what to do next.

"We will talk tomorrow" a shiver ran down Hermione's back, giving her goosebumps as she heard Fleur's voice echo in her head. She quickly grabbed the nearby towel and wiped the water that trickled down to her chin. She prepared for the day. After her routine, she decided to go down stairs but first took a few moment to look at the closed wooden door adjacent to her own room.

\---

She heard the soft click from the door of her bathroom a few minutes after she had been actively awake. She ran a hand through her golden locks as she stared at her closed door. She sighed. What had she been thinking? Agreeing to let Hermione stay with her. It was not a problem for her, in fact, she's bubbling with excitement with the arrangement. With only one thought in mind: She wanted familiarity in her home. And she found Hermione a familiar thing in her everyday life ever since she moved in England.

Fleur found herself reminiscing some mornings in Charles' as the thought pass her.

The first time she went looking through the scenic windows of the shop. Gazing through the window barely seeing enough of the things inside due to the huge lettering of Charles' painted on it. She almost just passed by the shop, not one interest sparked in her, it was just a common shop, she thought that day. But as she moved forward, finding herself in the middle of the letters 'R' and 'L', she momentarily paused. What caught her attention that day was a brunette animatedly talking to an old man in his fifties. They looked like they were enjoying themselves, looking so detached from the world.

It looked homey.

Maybe it was the fog making things up in her mind, but one thing was sure that day, that It was one of the days she felt home-sick, that watching the interaction between the barista and the customer was calling her. She wanted to at least feel something like that.

After that day, albeit running late for her second week to work, she frequented the shop. She would wake up an hour early than her usual so that she could just sit down the shop, drink coffee in the serene environment while listening to hushed conversations of the barista and her customers.

Surely, people would find it annoying to not enjoy coffee in a really quite place, but, it was different for the people who frequent Charles'. They loved to be involved.

As the days passed, she noticed how engrossed she had been- not to the environment and the friendly people of Charles' but to one specific person. The brunette. Hermione.

How? It was what perplexed her.

She shuffled around the bed, letting the covers slide down her slim figure. It was a Monday, and that means no work for her. She hoped her guest didn't have any plans.

Coffee in hand, both of them sat across each other in her small dining bar. Hermione, silently sipping her joe. While Fleur enjoyed her special blend, care of Hermione of course.

"Glad I got to taste the coffee you promised me the other day" Fleur started. Taking another sip on her cup, humming in delight as the bittersweet taste molded into her tongue. Hermione slightly looked up, still avoiding eye contact with Fleur.

"Um. Of course" she politely replied. It was awkward. Both of them silently agreed on that. Even if Fleur was trying to relive the tension, it wasn't enough. She contemplated on starting to ask Hermione what her problem was that she had been kicked out of her college apartment or if she would wait until the brunette speaks up. But being Fleur, a bit demanding she admits to herself, chose the first option: Confrontation.

"I heard you got punished by your parents?" she said, she could see Hermione's uneasiness and her shaking hands under the table. "What of?"

Silence. Hermione tried to open her mouth to answer but pulled back and thought about what to say more intensely. Fleur watched as the woman before her sighed defeated.

"It's silly really..." Hermione slowly said. She started to tell Fleur, although embarrassed, about the things that transpired over the weekend. She knew that it was such a petty thing and was deeply ashamed of what she had done. Though, she had to admit, the thing with Ron was apparently just bad timing. As in really, really bad timing.

So when she paused to took a sip of her now cold coffee, she was waiting for Fleur's reaction. Her eyes were dipped low behind her mug. She was afraid of looking into Fleur's brilliant blue ones. "Well, that is interesting" was Fleur's reply.

Hermione set down her mug and looked at her like she was crazy for saying just a really short comment on her stupidity but at the same time, she was glad. Glad that Fleur was understanding.

"But, I'm sure I'm going to look for a place to crash today" Hermione started. "I really don't want to intrude" she slowly said as if testing the waters. Fleur's eyes slightly widened at Hermione's words. She bit her lip as her brows came into contact at the middle.

"None of that" she firmly said. "Things happen. And sometimes you don't have control over it" Fleur explains. "maybe… well… don't you think this is a pretty nice arrangement? hm?" she said her eyes somewhat avoiding direct contact while her hands played on her cup's rim.

"How is this a nice arrangement? I'm crashing in one of my regulars home without a cent to pay. That is totally embarrassing on my part!" Hermione huffed. Taken aback by Hermione's sudden out burst. Fleur accidentally tipped her mug.

"Merde!" the chair skidded from the table and landed with a loud thump as Fleur jumped out of her seat feeling the scalding hot water through her thin clothes.

"Oh shit!" Hermione jumped out of her seat and quickly grabbed towels from the nearby sink. She hurriedly dabbed the cloth on Fleur's now wet shirt and pants. "I'm sorry! It wasn't supposed to come out harsh" she explained. Fleur watched her guest for a moment, before bending down and holding her down from her frantic movements of helping her. She tipped the brunette's face up slightly. Her blue eyes meeting chocolate ones. Fleur was reading them, Hermione's emotions from her eyes. She softly caressed Hermione's shoulders in a calming manner and sighed.

"It's nothing" Fleur blew out.

"Which are you pertaining to?" the brunette innocently asked.

Fleur chuckled. "Both" this made Hermione show a crooked shy smile that melted Fleur's heart. "Let's clean this up" was the only thing Fleur said before taking the cloth from the brunette's hand.

"As for staying. Let's… not get into any argument about that. Hermione…" she paused looking directly at the young barista's eyes. "My home is your home from now on. Okay?"

\---

To say that the day went awful was not the truth. In fact Hermione enjoyed her time with Fleur. They cooked, cleaned and talk all throughout the day. It seemed that they had grown to know each other much better than the small notes they passed around Charles'.

They were in the living room watching a movie and eating dinner when the door opened. The dogs barked a playful woof as soon as they saw who entered. The raven head looked down at the 'mutts'— it's what Bellatrix often call them— before she bent down and picked up one. Her face though, not hiding the disgust towards the dog.

"Alaina" she cooed to the malamute. In return Alaina licked her cheeks. Bellatrix frowned and proceeded to put the dog down. "I only liked you for a moment you hear that" she told the dog as it scurried off towards her real owner. Fleur was now lounging by the door frame as soon as she heard Bellatrix's voice.

"You are late" she said, but with a smirk. The raven head only had time to roll her eyes before she was enveloped in a hug with a blonde french. She faked choked at the gesture in hopes that Fleur might actually want to let go, but her hopes died as the woman tightened her hug. Bellatrix could never get this woman and all this french-y-affections— so she quoted— but who was she to deny such affection. With a defeated sigh, she gave into the gesture and hugged the damnable blonde.

"You ought'ta lessen the hugging you know" Bellatrix quietly mused as she pulled away. Fleur chuckled a hand covering her lips. She picked up the nearest hand towel she could get and scrubbed the dog saliva from Bellatrix's cheeks. The raven head frowned deeper, what the hell is wrong with this woman? She thought but she did not put any resistance in the action.

She looked at her, a twinkle in her eyes "A thank you would've suffice" Bellatrix only shrugged. Her best friend slash neighbor was one of a kind— a kind where she would hug and be kind to anybody she just met — and she would testify that to anyone. She studied Fleur for a moment, taking in the comfy outfit the blonde accountant was in. Just a sweater and shorts,— Bellatrix gasped inwardly, was she seeing things? — and she was even barefooted. Fleur absolutely hated the feeling.

"You're barefooted." Bellatrix stated.

Fleur gave her a puzzled look then she looked at her feet."Oh" she let out silently. She went over the couch and grabbed her house slippers, giving a short smile to Hermione before she went back to Bellatrix. "Must've forgotten when I heard you come in. We just cleaned and the floor felt so nice too" she explained with a smile dancing on her lips. Bellatrix only hummed in agreement.

"So, what's on tonight?" Bellatrix walked in and shred her jacket.

"Avengers"

Bellatrix shuddered, and gave Fleur an impassive look. "Works for me"

She took a glance at Hermione who was looking from the couch. The raven head in turn gave a sheepish smile. "Oh hey there love" she winked. Hermione blushed but managed to give a wave as a response.

It perplexed Hermione how Bellatrix moved about the house so comfortably. She watched as the raven haired individual head toward the kitchen and open the refrigerator just to grab some booze. So that's what the beers are for. The brunette mused. As per talking with Fleur the accountant had admitted that she didn't like the taste of malt beer and had often strayed away from it when she had parties. She had told Hermione that she was a wine type kinda girl and she loved wine especially the old ones because it remind her of France— and France and it's cuisine often combined wine with their food. So, what boggled Hermione to no end now is the relationship between this black haired woman named Bellatrix and her current hostess Fleur. She sighed and settled down on the couch and continued on munching the potato chips that rested on her lap.

The brunette barista watched from the corner of her eyes. Bellatrix sat down beside Fleur and placed her feet on the coffee table just across the couch, she grabbed the pillow from her behind and placed it on her lap. Hermione continued to watch closely. Fleur on the other hand, absentmindedly went to rest her head on Bellatrix's shoulder. The neighbor only looked at Fleur momentarily before shrugging and paid no mind. Hermione felt oddly unwelcome now that these two displayed such features. But, as a guest she dismissed the thought and continued on watching the movie with the two. Besides, they're just displaying what normal best friend do right? She does those things with Ginny all the time… right? Then she should think no malice of it. Hermione quietly concluded.

Though, after a few minutes, it proved difficult to stay within their premises and Hermione did know her place when she felt it. So, she stood up and pretended to yawn. Fleur looked up and adjusted to sit up properly. She looked at Hermione, giving the girl a lingering questioning look. Hermione smiled tiredly.

"What's wrong?" Fleur asked.

"N-nothing." the brunette gave a stiff smile. "I'm going to turn in now" she said and walked straight to the stairs. Fleur sighed, she sat down opposite Bellatrix to where Hermione once where. She inhaled the scent that lingered in the area and cuddled in the still warm pillow.

Bellatrix smirked as soon as she knew Hermione was out of earshot. She popped a pop-corn in her mouth and gave an all knowing eye to Fleur who was curled up in Hermione's place ."Looks like someone's jealous" she murmured. Fleur only looked at her and rolled her eyes and ignored her friend's silent comment.

"Well that ended well" continued Bellatrix as she popped another pop-corn in her mouth, she quietly chewed the puffy piece and closed the television before them.

Fleur sharply eyed the raven head "What do you mean?"

"I mean you could've jumped each other like horny rabbits" Bella smiled innocently and ate another fist full of puffed corn. Fleur turned red in an instant and threw the pillow she was holding straight to Bellatrix's face.

"What was that for you bloody blonde!?" she picked up the discarded pillow and threw it back at Fleur with the same force. Fleur moved away and managed to dodge the flying object.

"You— Lestrange! You don't even have the decency in you to not say any topic about s-s— " stuttered the blonde accountant. She held her face and felt heat steam from her cheeks. She knew in herself that sometimes their banters about this thing go to an awkward direction. It was generally alright to talk about it but with Hermione in the house it seemed really inappropriate. And, added to this fact, they we're talking about Hermione. More specifically— her jumping on her guest. She feared that the young brunette might have heard and this had caused her to act violently towards her neighbor, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Amused but irked at Fleur's demure demanour "Just say sex already!" Saying that out loud earned her a harsh hand covering her mouth. The pop corn flying onto the floor and couch.

"Shit!" Bellatrix Lestrange mumbled from behind Fleur's hands. Fleur looked at her intently eye to eye.

"I will remove this hand if you promise to keep it down" she bargained. "Please"

The raven head shook her shoulders and sighed. "Fine" she mumbled. Fleur slowly removed her hands and began to pick up the pop corn before her dogs manages to snag some. Bellatrix sighed again and began helping her friend. "You are hopeless, do you know that you git?" she picked up a puffed treat and threw it into Fleur's direction. Fleur glared at her but paid no mind to the act of offense.

"You're really not planning anything while she's here?" said Bellatrix after a moment of picking up the mess they made. "It's a great opportunity you know, I'd certainly take advantage of it" she smirked.

Fleur huffed. "I'm not like you, you and your impulsive behavior. And there's really a big problem here"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, how could she have a friend this prude? She didn't know what's going on Fleur Delacour's mind. She meant, the prey was already in her house and she have been rambling about this for a month now. And by month, she meant that Fleur had told her almost every intricate detail of their boring note passing in Charles' Coffee Place. What's wrong in taking a little advantage of the situation? She thought. If she was the predator in this situation she would have Hermione pinned on a wall right now and was fucking her senseless. That was 'if' she was in the situation but she's not. This was Fleur's house and she respected that.

"And what might that be?" she challenged. After a few moments, the answer also dawned on her.

"Rowena's niece" the both said. Bellatrix had manage to recover from the truth and laughed her arse out. Surely, that was just pure bad luck on her friends behalf. This was going to be interesting, really interesting— Bellatrix betted on it.

"You're such a loony" the accounted huffed as she stood up from the couch to pick up the rest on the floor. "Mind picking up that?" Bella followed and proceeded to help Fleur.

"I'm your loony, though" Bellatrix cackled.

"You're the hopeless one"

She stopped her snickering and stood up from the floor as the last piece was placed back in the bowl."Not so hopeless as you. I told you Narcissa's free and you wouldn't have to hassle yourself with this Hermione issue" she said. "Even Rowena would put you off that you're much better not involving yourself with young-ins" she chuckled again. The accountant could only sigh.

"You're putting it like I love her already. I'm not in love with her you know. I'm just... interested." Bella hummed an amused tone. "Let's say you've come to like her more than before while she's in your house… what would you do then?"

Fleur bit her lip as Bellatrix's question struck her. It was an unlikely thing but, maybe she was pointing out something. Just maybe, Bellatrix was right. She sighed. It was too late in the evening to think about these things and maybe it's the wine talking and the beer that Bellatrix and her took. They were intoxicated and these things were just the result. She moved to stand up as well as she saw Bella put on her coat and headed towards the front door.

"You remember what I said, Fleur. I'm watching out for you, as your friend" she smiled and gave Fleur a peck on the cheek, a french gesture she had picked up over the years. Fleur nodded tiredly and waved Bellatrix with a soft goodbye.


	6. Chapter 6

To say that the day was not tiring was a lie for Fleur. It wasn't because of work for she had those handled quite perfectly well. It wasn't because of her dear boss William, though maybe partly it was his fault. But in truth, it was because of her fellow office mates that made her this tired and stressed out just before lunch.

Fleur quickly closed her laptop and pushed it inside her bag. She gathered her papers as quickly as she could, she stood up and went to her door, slowly opening the knob. Through the small opening, she looked left and right as she tried to spot her 'annoying' colleagues. She gave a relieved sigh when she spotted no one loitering in the hall and quickly as she could she locked her office and ran straight to the elevators.

Once she was inside the closed space mechanism, she released the tensed breath she didn't know she was holding. How could have she forgotten the date today? Or more so their office tradition. This wasn't what she expected when it was her turn. Her office mates were too much for her to handle and it wasn't even time for that. "By gods, William you and your office traditions" she muttered under her breath.

The elevator dinged and she stepped out into the lobby. There was no way she was going to spend her lunch hour in her office.

"Taking lunch I presume?" Fleur's head snapped to the direction of a familiar voice. Her heart sped up as panic caught up to her. She slowly turned to the voice.

"B-Bella?" Fleur gave a relieved sigh when she saw her neighbor and best friend walk up to her. Fleur took note of the not so casual attire of her friend. It was oddly refreshing to see Bellatrix Lestrange wearing anything but black leather and and Gothic motif clothes. It also surprised Fleur that dress shirts made her friend look good and seemingly cleaner from her usual disheveled hairstyle.

"You seemed surprised? Don't tell me you forgot?" Bellatrix feigned shock. Fleur could only shake her head and chuckle nervously. "Don't give me that look"

"Forgot what?" the accountant nervously replied. Bellatrix let out an exasperated breath while giving a 'seriously-what-the-bloody-hell' look which Fleur Delacour knew so well. The blonde continued her nervous chuckle and gave her shoulders a slight shudder.

What would she do without me? Bellatrix gave up and told the blonde their purpose for today. "We are to go over and through my accounts" the statement lit a memory in Fleur's mind.

"Oh, right, how could I have forgotten! I hold your account since William decided that I'd be promoted to a regular now"

"Well congratulations darling, we can go over it while having lunch at my shop" she replied deadpan.

Fleur raised a brow. "Which one?" she questioned. She knew, when she went over Bellatrix's accounts, that her friend had multiple establishments. There were about five shops that this raven haired owned. Four of them food establishments and are really well known. Two of which are high class restaurants located in the high society district in England and two of which were local cafe in the area. The last establishment was a clothing line outside the British territory, well... it was in France. The Lestrange family is well known and by well known it meant filthy rich. Sometimes Fleur wonders how she had gotten the opportunity to be this obnoxious raven head's best friend. But that is another story for another time. Bellatrix mostly inherited the Lestrange fortune since her parents died. Being an only child does have its perks, Fleur thought. She glanced over her friend as she waited for a reply.

Bellatrix only smiled.

\---

The bell chimed again just a few seconds after the last. Charles' was a bit crowded today since it was lunch time. The serene environment was kept barely quiet through the clatter of plates and small talks. It was a good sight because it meant business is doing well. Though a certain brunette still prefers the crowd that materialized in wee hours of the morning.

"'Ermione! Table seven!" their chef, Rubeus called from the kitchen counter. The big man with long black beard, almost a giant to Hermione, placed the omelette orders in a tray then turned back into the depths of the kitchen. The sizzling sound of oil was heard once again. Hermione, on the other hand was making waffles at that time but went over as quickly as she finished the last sweet pastry for display. She grabbed the tray with a familiar ease and went over to the aforementioned table.

"Two omelettes, one black joe and a special house blend" Hermione stated lowering the contents of the tray to the table before her.

"My, my, love I didn't know you're working here"

Hermione stopped momentarily as she recognized the person sitting in the booth. She gave an awkward smile to her customer as she placed the utensils to their respective plates.

"Hello Hermione" a soft and gentle voice reached the brunette's ears. Hermione gave another shy smile. She took a moment to study the two and she noted their clothes. Bellatrix wore a good black dress shirt, almost different from what she would normally see the raven head wear. In their time together, well mostly when the woman would visit Fleur's house, she was always wearing too much leather. Her hair though was still the same array of enigmatic couture. Now Fleur, was wearing a normal blue dress shirt complimented by a simple white dress pants. She had her hair tied in a ponytail unlike her usual free flowing style. From those deductions, the barista conclude that apparently they were still on the clock, their business attires were dead give away.

"Bellatrix… Fleur…" she replied to the older women. Both women looked up at her giving their respective smiles.

Hermione took notice of the French's eyes. She took the opportunity to bathe in Fleur's kind blue eyes, unconsciously. Now, come to think of it, she had been wondering when the blonde would show up since she hadn't seen her that morning. Hermione was up and running way before Fleur woke up since her finals was just a few days away. Hermione took her studies quite seriously at the same time she still manages to make time for her part-time job here at Charles. She knew though that even if they didn't see each other that morning Fleur would eventually show up here. But that wasn't what happened. Fleur did not show up that morning. Hermione could only sigh as she continued on having a trance with the accountant's soulful eyes.

Bellatrix watched this exchange and gagged. It was funny at the same time weird to actually see these kind of moments with her friend involved. It looked like they were acting like teenagers. Well aside from one being an actual teenager. She couldn't take any more of this so she feigned a cough. Luckily, Fleur was the first to snap off it and turned her eyes away.

"So aside from googly eyeing my friend here" the woman pointed out.

"I wasn't." quickly defended Hermione though the blush on her cheeks said otherwise. Bellatrix took this opportunity to make their lunch more interesting.

"Would you like to have lunch with us for a while?" she offered.

"I can't, if you don't see how many people are in here, I still have a lot of orders to take" replied Hermione.

"That's a shame. It would be nice to have lunch, the three of us" Fleur added. Hermione contemplated for a moment. It is a good opportunity and she needed the break.

With a sigh,"My break is in about ten minutes" she said then took off back to the counter. As soon as the brunette was gone, Bellatrix burst out laughing.

"You." She pointed an accusing finger "My dear, have her wrapped around your finger" she wiped a stray tear from her eyes. "Mind if you tell me how you've done it?"

The blonde gawked at her friend's comments, Bellatrix sure has no reserve for a woman so high class. Fleur shook her head disapprovingly and dismissed Bellatrix Lestrange with a stern look.

"Oh don't give me that look!"

"Don't bully the poor girl, Bella" she said. Fleur started looking over the papers she had brought with them as well as the ones in her laptop. "So what are we looking for here?" she eyed her.

Bellatrix only waved a hand. "I just need to check if everything is in order"

"Really, Bellatrix, if I know you… in which I do, you have some important business you needed to discuss with me" Fleur said without looking up.

Bellatrix sighed. "It's this old hag I call grandfather" she started. She took a sip of her black coffee and hummed. She then looked out the into the busy streets of London. Impassively looking at them, seemingly uninterested by how they move about. After a moment she looked back at Fleur again.

"Go on" encouraged the blonde accountant.

"He wants me to marry some bastard named Tom from who knows where" the raven head grumbled.

Fleur blinked. She did not get why or how it connected to her and the woman's accounts. Getting married wouldn't harm these establishment would it? She was flabbergasted. "What does that have to do with your accounts?"

Her friend could only sigh more. "Sometimes I wish you were with me when these things come up before it blows up in my face. I just had to open my big arse of a mouth and placed my accounts at stake"

If that was the case… "You don't mean..."

Bellatrix Lestrange only nodded. "He is still in control with regards business, darling. And if he wants something he gets it done whatever means necessary. He threatened to shut every little thing I had going if I don't marry the fucking bastard!" She unconsciously slammed her hand down the mahogany table. Fleur was startled.

The other customers paused to look at Bellatrix and Fleur wondering what the commotion is. The blonde dropped her head low then sighed while rubbing her now sore temples.

Well, that was new. Fleur had only ever seen Bellatrix, her ill mannered friend, to break out in rage. Sure, she was a witty pervert and a smart arse when it comes to people but most of the time she would only shrug the problem off and never swore it this mercilessly. But who is she to blame Bellatrix. It was her future on the line and if anything, Fleur Delacour knows her, and being chained down isn't one of them.

"But it still doesn't make sense"

"It will eventually, but I need you on my boat Fleur"

It was ever so rare that Bellatrix would address her normally rather than calling her git, doll, or arse and some other more pet names. This would only mean that Bellatrix was in an extreme pinch and she needed her best friend. Fleur nodded.

"Alright. I'll help you anyway I can" she placed her hand on Bellatrix's, soothing her friend's trembling hands. After a few minutes the raven head relaxed. Fleur took it as a good sign that the tensed conversation was over. Fleur's eyes soon caught a glimpse of Hermione standing by the counter watching them though she momentarily feigned ignorance by looking away. Fleur chuckled, How considerate of her. She thought. Fleur smiled and waved to the barista. Hermione took it a sign that things were alright now.

Now, Hermione knew that eavesdropping wasn't a good skill so she waited till Fleur and Bellatrix was over talking. From anyone's view it seemed intense like they were arguing.

"That seemed pretty intense" Ginny walked up to her. Hermione looked at her friend and shushed her. Yet, the redhead paid no mind and continued to narrate her observation to her friend.

"But it seemed like they were a couple arguing. Look at how they reconciled it's sweet…" Hermione Granger knew where this conversation was heading. She knew how the two interact, heck she saw them like this everyday. It wasn't new and she knows that she should not put any malice in their friendly gestures, but she can't help feeling something else. It prickled her heart and it sure damn hurts. "Hey isn't that-"

"It's not our business Ginny"

There was no doubt that Hermione wanted to know what is up but she wanted to trust Fleur, that she would tell her eventually. Hermione mentally slapped herself. She should just let the event slip. She should forget what Ginny said. She shook her head sideways. Right. No malice. Just good friends.

She walked over them a tray of freshly baked cookies and a sandwich on one hand and another pot of coffee for Bellatrix in the other. She gave both her customers a smile before she sat down beside Fleur and let the lunch hour unravel before her eyes.

Yet the words Ginny told her still scratched her consciousness.

\---

Hermione paced back and forth the living area. Their lunch had ended briefly when Fleur got a call from her boss saying that she was needed back at their office. Bellatrix agreed to depart and took Fleur back. But that had been ages ago. It was way past Fleur's usual arrival on a Thursday. Usually the blonde would be here before her and was starting dinner.

It was their routine on a weekly basis. This was the only day that Hermione makes it home after Fleur. For the past month that they've been living on the same roof, this was the first time Fleur hadn't called that she was going to be late and that worried the brunette. Hermione bit her lip as she looked at her phone once again.

"No messages or calls" the brunette student sighed. She glanced at the door and then to the stairs contemplating on whether or not she should just turn in, surely Fleur would be alright and would return safely. She took one last look at the clock.

"2am…" Well that decided it. Hermione stifled a yawn then stretched. She headed towards the stairs feeling more tired than before. She hadn't noticed that she had waited more than four hours already for Fleur besides, she argued, she had exams tomorrow. She had to get her head in the game if she wanted to graduate.

"Fleur is a grown woman for Pete's sake Hermione!" she told herself. As she started up the stairs. The doorknob jiggled and she heard keys. The door opened with a bang as it collided ungracefully with the wall. Hermione, alarmed, was just about to go down and take a look if Fleur was alright when she caught a glimpse of someone else. And that someone was snogging Fleur, for lack of better term. Hermione stopped in her tracks as she suddenly felt her stomach churn up as the scene unravels before her. She quickly ran up her room and banged the door shut.

She slid down pathetically till her knees touched the cold hardwood floor. Her breath ragged as she tried to get more air in her lungs. She closed her eyes in hopes that she would just forget everything she saw but it did not do anything, it was engraved already.

The barista slapped her face. "It's not your business" Hermione told herself.

Another bang at the door and the shuffle of footsteps caused her to jump and scramble up to her own bed. She feigned sleeping, covering her face with her blanket. Her door opened, and the light from the hallway lit her room momentarily.

"It seems you're alright. I was worried about you I thought you haven't gone home yet because you weren't texting me back. Funny though when I checked my phone the signal was nowhere visible, the reception in the area wasn't top notch" the figure from the door said with a slight chuckle. "I'm glad you're here, sleeping soundly. I guess I'll apologize tomorrow, I must've worried you" Hermione heard the woman sigh before closing the door behind her with a soft click. Then the door opposite her room closed quietly as well. Hermione sat up her bed, "Fleur..."

Hermione contemplated whether or not to approach the woman, her host, and tell her that it was alright, that everything was fine. But the images she saw downstairs had her trembling and sick that she decided not to. She laid back down her bed and watched the light dance through her curtains.

"I guess, there was really something more between them" she said to the air and slowly drifted into sleep. The thoughts of Fleur and the black haired woman replaying again and again in her dreams; a looping nightmare.

\---

A screeching scream pierced through Fleur's ears. She was just twenty minutes into her sleep when she heard it. She jumped up from her bed and hurried to the source. She opened the door without a care and ran beside Hermione. The brunette was thrashing in her sleep, clutching the sheets until her hands were white.

"Hermione" Fleur called a few times but the barista won't open her eyes and continued to thrash about the bed. Fleur only had one choice and that was to follow what her instincts told her. She grabbed the woman and enveloped her in a tight embrace. Shushing the crying girl until the sobs subsided and her face was clear of running tears. Fleur hushed her, caressing Hermione's forehead and whispering just sweet nonsense. "Must've been the exams tormenting the girl" she said as she spotted several books lying hazardously on the floor and table. She smiled. Hermione was really a hard worker, and she could see that on how the girl brought herself about.

When the shaking stopped, she knew that Hermione was now sleeping soundly, the night terrors had subsided. She lowered the girl to her own pillow and kissed the girl's forehead. A gesture she had always done when Gabrielle, her younger sister, had nightmares such as this. She caressed Hermione's forehead once more and whispered one last word "Sleep well, I am here... cherie"

Slowly and quietly she stood up from the edge of the bed. Opening the forgotten lamp in the corner, in hopes that it would at least light the nightmares away, before closing the door.

Fleur, stopped momentarily behind the closed door, her hand still resting at the door knob. She felt her heart, it was still hammering wildly against her chest. She closed her eyes, lulling her heart to stop beating madly that everything was fine.

Fleur, for the second time since she was in England, felt scared.


	7. Chapter 7

The smell of freshly roasted coffee wafted to Fleur's nose as soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen. She scanned the area to see if Hermione was up, with a smile, her eyes landed onto Hermione, nose buried in a book about the Human anatomy and acupressure. She walked lightly, hoping to not disturb the brunette from her studies and head towards the smell that captivated her the minute she stepped foot in her kitchen. She grab a cup from her variety of colorful mugs and poured herself a cup of coffee. She inhaled the aroma, glad that it helped subside her headache.

Fleur promised to herself that moment that she would not at all attempt to out drink her colleagues in a party. Having that promotion party was a big surprise to her. It baffled her that her workmates, usually grumpy and bored individuals, could party like that. It was thanks to that office tradition that she had a chance to see a different side of her office. Though, after the fun, everything was a bit of a blur to her. The only thing she remembered after that was waking up when Hermione screamed and that she had lulled the girl back to sleep. Now that she had remembered it, she took the opportunity to glance at the diligent Hermione.

She slowly painted Hermione with her eyes, starting with the messy brown hair tied to a messy bun, she noted that the brunette's lose hair flowed beautifully sculpting her face. Her eyes dark with hunger for knowledge, she would also note how the girl would scrunch up her nose when she found a new yet difficult word. She would grab the dictionary beside her and look at the meaning before proceeding on the page she had her finger as a bookmark. Fleur also noted how she would bite her thumb finger when she finds something troublesome in her books. It was really fun watching Hermione, Fleur would witness for that.

Clearly, observing the brunette barista had her forget about the time and her coffee as her phone chimed loudly causing her to jump and spill little coffee on her hand. She grab the nearby cloth on the table and dabbed it on her scalded skin. She quickly placed the cup down and ran for her phone.

"Hello" she said to the receiver.

Hermione watched Fleur from the couch where she comfortably sat. She released a breath when she heard Fleur answer the phone. She could not take another minute of Fleur staring at her without making an embarrassment for herself. Though she was also guilty admiring her hostess with her peripheral vision. She had in detail admired Fleur's morning get up. A blush quickly spread on her cheeks as she walked into that thought. Fleur really had a nice body, and by nice it would be in her colleague's term 'the bomb'. It was in layman's term sexy and well proportioned for a woman of her late twenties. Her eyes had examined her from head to toe countless of times but this morning was just more different and magical. This was the first time she had really looked at Fleur in great detail. Notably taking important notes of Fleur's best assets. She describes Fleur's arms and legs a godly divine with it being milky white and flawless. Oh and how her blonde hair glittered as the morning rays touch them had Hermione momentarily awestruck. She had felt that time stopped as she admired this beautiful masterpiece before her. It wasn't even helping her that the book she held was a demonstration on acupressure– which was required for her subject– and had in detail described the points, like running the fingers down the hind legs and so forth. Her imagination had gone wild in that moment. It also wasn't a good thing that Fleur's nightgown was sort of short and revealing, accentuating her full breast as the blonde leaned into the counter. It also did not help that every time Fleur would inhale the aroma of the roasted coffee she would unconsciously moan in delight.

Hermione could only hold off small amounts of teasing early in the morning. She knew that it won't ever be possible after last night and that this Fleur she was seeing now was a long gone dream. Hermione, bitterly, closed the book as soon as she heard Fleur said goodbye to the other person on the line. She stood up and grabbed her knapsack and headed straight for the door without a word.

The door closed with a loud bang and Fleur could only look, with heavy feeling, and sighed. That was odd for Hermione. Hermione, would surely not forget her morning kiss, a habit they have started as Fleur's french traditions. She smiled at the thought as she reminisced that faithful and awkward day. It was the day Hermione had asked Fleur why she constantly does the pecking on the cheeks though she was in England. Curiosity had killed Hermione and she asked for one, yet shyly, after seeing her host and Bellatrix do it a lot of .The look on Hermione's face was priceless when she approved and the girl quickly withdrew her request and that made her laugh heartily. It was then she gave Hermione an unexpected kiss on the cheek as she was about to leave for school. So, Hermione forgetting would mean something else entirely, but she had to make sure first.

Fleur stretched and shrugged off the thought as the brunette having a bad morning and proceeded to start her own day.

\---

That afternoon, Fleur felt awfully tired and it had only been two hours after lunch. The paper works are endless. Added to that her office looked like a hurricane had gone by. The paper stack towering on her desk and some on the floor. It didn't help that the other areas in her office were decorated by flowers of different shape, colors and sizes. After last night, it seemed that her admirers had grown a couple more. She rubbed her temples as she turned another page of the booklet she was signing.

A faint knock startled her from her concentration. She rolled her eyes because she knew what's going to come next. Great. Fleur grumbled but she fixed herself, undoing her work bun and letting her hair flow down to her shoulders. She applied a touch of powder just in case it was someone else important. She fixed the stack of papers hoping it would be enough to at least make her office nice to hold small business talk. She cleared her throat and bid 'come in'. As expected it was another delivery. She sighed and directed the man to place it behind all the others she had.

"Will this ever end?" she muttered as she closed the door behind the flower delivery man.

Another one knocked on her door, she rolled her eyes and breathed an exasperated sigh. Really? I haven't been able to walk back yet. With dejection she opened the door.

"Fleur my darling!" without any warning she felt soft lips on the corner of her mouth. Her eyes widened, shocked by the gesture, as she was then enveloped in an embrace. The person moved to her ear and breathed one favor. "Just go with it and pretend we're together" Fleur was screaming in her head now. What in the bloody hell was happening and what is this pretend thing the other person was spouting about?

"Grandfather, you've met Fleur before, she's the one I've been seeing" the woman said as her arms snaked lovingly onto Fleur's shaped waist.

"Hello sir, Bellatrix have told me so much about you, thank you for taking the time to visit" she lied as she tries to hide her displease.

Fleur smiled albeit awkward to the older gentleman before her. She, by practice, extended her hand waiting for the other party to shake hands but after a few silly seconds it did not come, her hand left unnoticed. The old man who looked like in his seventies, dressed in luxurious business attire gave her a sharp look. Fleur knew that look and that look was disgust. What in the world is Bellatrix thinking? Is this what it means that all will fall into place? Oh. Why did she even open her mouth and agreed without actually asking what this crazy woman had in mind. Sure, it was no secret to Bellatrix's family of her preferences and this did not hinder their relationship for she is solely the granddaughter of this man. And by the stories Bellatrix told her, she was adored by this man, immensely and spoiled to no end.

But then again, Fleur wondered, how did they get into an argument on marriage in the first place?

"Oh Ms. Fleur. I'm sorry you had to be surprised like that. I had asked my granddaughter if she was willing to show me the progress of our agreement today" the man said, voice low and lacked the oldness in it. He fixed his cuffs then gave a small smile behind his mustache. Fleur smiled back. At least her grandfather have manners. She then briefly eyed Bellatrix dangerously. Bellatrix only shrugged and turned back to her grandfather.

"It's nothing to worry about monsieur, it's quite rude of me actually that we are taking greetings at my door. Please, do come in" she opened the door wider and stepped a side, she signaled the assistant waiting just outside to make beverages for her 'clients'. Fleur sighed. This will be a long afternoon. Bella should have a good explanation for this.

\---

Hermione sat in the corner of the last booth in Charles. Her face yet again buried behind books on medical situations and practice. A note pad or two opened before her and a pen clipped between her lips as she contemplated on the problem she had to solve.

Charles was quiet during this time of hour, this was between two and five in the afternoon. Customers rarely come at this hour since it was between lunch and snack time. For the brunette student, this was the perfect study place at this time. With the smell of coffee rejuvenating her mind once in awhile and some snacks in between she was more than prepared to study straight hours.

Ginny was manning the cashier at the moment and what better way would she have it? She looked at her watch momentarily and had taken note that her break was about over. She sighed and closed her books, gathering them up on her arm and then placing them neatly in her knapsack. The day was almost good, she had calmed herself down after that morning show Fleur did. She could still faintly hear Fleur's hums and moans that somehow managed to cause her to blush and make her heart race. She shook her head hoping that the thoughts would subside.

"Don't make them naughty thoughts Granger" she told herself.

She picked up her plate and proceeded back to the kitchen. Upon arriving at the counter, she felt rage rumble in her chest. This could not be happening. She thought. Her lips dropped onto a frown almost instantly as she saw Ginny animatedly talking to her boyfriend who was sitting on the bar stool near the counter door. He smiled his usual goofy-charming smile as he rubbed the scar on his forehead. Ginny would soon brush the hair away and make a comment on how he looked good with the new hair set up. Among the couple was a third wheeler. He had the same screaming red hair that Ginny has. Though unlike Ginny, this one was not on Hermione's good graces. He looked up as soon as he felt Hermione stand a few feet before them, their conversation abruptly stopping as the smiled nervously and greet the brunette. Harry was the first to approach and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek and a small hug which the brunette unhappily accepted. Hermione frowned further when the young boy with red hair gobbled up the pancake in one scoop and smiled with food still full on his mouth.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing here?!" she said an octave higher than her normal voice. Ginny went over to Hermione as soon as the scene began unwrapping itself before her. Harry quickly moved to the side, hoping to not be caught in the crossfire he predicted that would happen.

"Calm down Hermione. My brother just needed to… uh. See me?" Ginny said, nervously, obviously Hermione knew it was a lie but she couldn't blame Ginny for covering her brother's bloody arse. Her gaze watched Ronald, expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Ron replied with a step back and gulping down his building saliva at the sound of Hermione's enraged voice. He quickly went behind the counter with Harry and hid behind him. Cowering and bumbling idiotically.

"I told you this wouldn't work! Look at her she's like a ravaging wolf!" he cried.

Harry rolled his eyes at his best friend's antics.

"It is your fault in the first place Ronald and you should've known Mione would be mad" Harry replied as he tugged his arms away from Ronald Weasley's sweaty hands.

"How would I know her parents would visit randomly?! And she agreed to' living-in' together" replied the Weasley boy. Hermione was taken aback, offended that Ron was making this her fault. She wanted to go at him and punch the guy in the face but Ginny held her firmly in place. Luckily, it was Harry who gave him a rather hard nudge on the stomach causing the redhead to groan in pain and yield.

"So. What are you doing here when I clearly told you to stay out of might damn sight? Huh?" she eyed Ron sharply. The three loomed over Ron arms crossed, waiting for him to give a good explanation. "Well?" Hermione said rather harshly than intended.

Ron sighed. "I… I want to apologize and I know I was the jerk… the arse" he chuckled nervously, he stole a glance at Hermione looking for a hint that Hermione wouldn't just punch him in the face. But to no avail, the expression was still the same, impatient and mad. "I… I'm really sorry Mione, baby, and everything's alright now, I already apologize to your parents as well. I still love you and I want us to be still together, you and I" he moved in closer as he tried to hug Hermione by the waist. Hermione only looked at him with disgust. Then her mind processed the words Ron Weasley spilled from his mouth. She held up her hand causing the redhead to stop his advances.

"You what?!" she repeated slowly yet deadly. Ron rubbed his arm nervously. Ginny quickly shushed Hermione and dragged the group to the back as soon as she saw the customers look at them and started to murmur.

At the back lounge the four stood before each other. Harry and Ron on one end and Ginny who was failing to restrain Hermione on the other. Hermione huffed and dropped her bag on the nearby chair. She paced around the room rubbing her sore temples.

"What in the bloody hell are you thinking? You" she pointed an accusing finger to Ron "in all the bloody people in this world, talked to my parents? And What did you tell them?" she stopped tapping her foot on the floor, impatiently waiting for Ronald Weasley, ex-boyfriend, to give her a goddamn viable answer. Hermione is pissed and she wasn't putting any filter on that. She wanted Ron to feel her rage.

"I- that we just wanted to feel more comfortable when we get uhm… you know… married" Ron squeaked the last words and hid behind Harry again as he saw Hermione's eyes turned darker with anger.

"Oh shite" Harry palmed his forhead. It came to a surprise to him that Ronald did that arse move. He went to face Ronald as he also felt Hermione's anger.

"You told my parents what!?" the brunette held her mouth, biting her lips in pure disbelief. Her parents are people who take marriage in complete seriousness. And it seemed like Ronald had asked her parents for her hand in marriage. The bloody nerve! She screamed in her head.

"What in the world were you thinking in that pea brain of yours Ron?" Harry said, his face also in disbelief.

Ginny frowned. "And I still call you brother" she murmured under her breath.

Ronald gulped and tried to calm Hermione down by putting an arm around her but failed as Hermione slapped him hard, the sound echoing in the small room.

Tears streamed down the barista's face. She angrily wiped them and spat at Ron. "Are you happy now? You've just officially made my problem worse you stupid git" Hermione turned around and grab her bag, "Don't ever show your bloody face again!" she said and bolted right out the room.

\---

It was cold but that did not bother a lonely and aching soul.

The swings were empty beside one that sat on the farthest corner. If one doesn't have sharp eyes, they wouldn't even notice the person sitting there with their head bowed low, deep into their knapsack.

"Stupid Ronald. Stupid Parents" she muttered angrily into her bag. Her fingers and knuckles white from clutching her bag too tight. "Stupid Fleur"

Her parents had indeed called her that afternoon but she ignored their calls, pretending she was busy.

Her relationship with Ron was legal though their breakup wasn't so clear. He may have thought that this is just a phase and was just distance. He, even though she hate to admit it, was the sweet young boy that Hermione grew up with and he was a true romantic when he asked her to be his girlfriend. Hermione chuckled bitterly as she recounted their sweet moments. She wondered where or when did everything fall out of place between them. She also felt, though before, that their relationship was heading to forever, to marriage and having kids. If this was before then she would understand but after all his mistakes and all of her forgiveness gone to dust she wasn't so sure anymore. She realized as she grew older that marriage was a really big thing and that she couldn't picture it with Ron anymore.

She sighed. Hermione dropped her bag on the floor and began to swing, slowly lifting her feet above the short play swing. She looked up the sky and watched it as it turned to a dark blue and then to pitch black with an accent of orange and white hues. It overlooked some parts of the busy English streets as this was a park just near Shell Cottage. She looked at her wrist watched and noticed that it was almost time for dinner, Fleur might be on her way back and she had not prepared any dinner yet. She stood up and grab her bag but before she went on her way, she pulled out her phone only to see it had about a dozen messages and a few missed calls. Dejectedly, she opened her phone with her memorized lock pattern and swiped the messages away, one by one. She scrolled through Ginny and Harry's messages and passed Ron's and her parents as well. Hermione's eyes sparked as she saw a lone message from the blonde French. She hesitantly hovered her fingers above it and wondered if she should read it, if it is important.

The brunette sucked a breath and placed the phone back into her pocket and grabbed her bag, she would just order take out since there wasn't really time to prepare anything. As she turned around she saw the familiar sedan by the sidewalk and there leaning someone she knew.

"I was wondering who that brat was" she said, as she puffed a smoke out of her lips. She raised a brow, then threw her cigar but on the sidewalk. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Littering is strict here you know" she said. "What brings you here?"

Bellatrix stood up straight from her lean and walked up to the brunette "Well, I was just passing by and I saw you,isn't it such an unusual coincidence?" a chuckle escaped from her lips.

Hermione frowned, she doesn't want to deal with any more drama or even if they were jokes especially from this one person she had mixed feelings with. She was pissed at Bellatrix because she knew something was going on between Fleur at the same time she kinda like the woman for her usual spunk. But, she also knew in herself that getting pissed off by Bellatrix wouldn't do such good because, maybe the relationship Fleur and this raven head had was just all in her head. She sighed. Right? Why would she get mad at someone who had done nothing bad to her. Maybe, this was still all because of Ronald Mishaps.

"Don't look so glum love" she said, then there was a moment of pause, she snapped her fingers and grabbed the brunette teenager by the wrist. "You dear, need to have fun. And I just have the right thing in mind" she smiled. Hermione felt a tug, not only in her hands but in her chest. She had no time to protest as Bellatrix Lestrange swept her off into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

_Her back was burning as long fingers clawed them, desperately holding on to her. The heat that’s inside felt so intense. She gasped, as another elongated finger went in. She held on for dear life as more came in and out faster and harder.  Soon, soft yet hungry lips trailed her body placing a wake of burns as it land on soft creamy patches of her skin. She held back a moan, biting her lips. She closed her eyes, willing herself to feel every bit of passion given to her. She could hear her partner’s ragged breath hot on her ears, hushing her softly, encouraging her to take it all in. Hermione could only gulped as she felt herself tensed with one final thrust._

* * *

 

Hermione groaned at the alarm as it blared loudly right next to her. She reached out for the damned thing to shut it up so that she could rest more. She could feel her head throbbing like a drum that she had felt nauseous as soon as the light hit her eye lids. She stood up and scrambled towards the bathroom. 

Anyone would cringe at the sound Hermione made as she expelled the content of last night from her stomach. Hermione groaned again, reaching up for the flush. The toilet gurgled up and the water whirl-pooled dragging the icky contents down the drain. She closes the lid soon afterwards and rested her aching head, letting the cold soothe her.

This is the worse hangover yet. She thought. She moved to stand and wash herself, slowly, she manages to prop herself upright the sink. She had a chance to look at herself only to note that she looked pretty much like hell. 

“Should’ve known she was a party monster…” she murmured. Hermione proceeded to clean herself up and prepared for the day. She went back to her room to gather her necessities for her shower, she definitely needed a hot one since she felt so sore all over. She had yet to recall the events of last night and how she had gotten back to her place without any trouble at all. All she was remembering were vividly colored neon lights that made her dizzy yet again. She held back her vomit, rubbing her stomach to help it subside.

A shower is a place people liked to think. The serene environment helps soothe the mind and ponder quietly on different things or perspectives and Hermione was just doing that. She tried to recall the events last night but with no luck,  all she had was a gnawing feeling that she felt incredibly good. This made her feel restless still wondering what it was. She closed her eyes to let the hot water calm her more.

She grabbed the soap and the luffa and started to scrub herself, from her neck to her foot and then her back.

“Ouch!” she hissed. A sharp pain jolted her awake. She dropped the luffa and went to rinse herself quickly as the pain intensified. 

“What in the world happened last night?” she murmured frustratedly to herself. She went out the stall and turned in front of the mirror only to see angry scratches decorated her former flawless skin. 

“Scratches and….” Hermione groaned. It had to be a dream. It just got to be. She thought. “Sex” she muttered like she was stating a dumb fact to someone stupid. She rubbed her temples as she vaguely recalled the time frame of last night.

Her hand shook as the pictures started to pour in. The sensations and the intensity of the action caused her to shiver. 

“Hermione? Are you alright?” Fleur’s voice echoed from the hallway. Hermione rinsed quickly and went out the stall to get her towel and dry herself. There is no point in thinking about this now and her head was aching really bad like someone was whacking her with a metal bat. And she still had exams to worry about and of course, her parents. She could just shrug it off as a wild party and a one time thing anyway, just a one night stand. 

“Hermione?” Fleur knocked softly. “I heard you vomiting a while ago. I’m worried about you…” this time Fleur’s voice was just beyond the door. The softness in the French woman’s voice made her shiver and tingle as warmth spread all throughout her. Hermione then began to wonder,  _ what if it was with Fleur?  _ Hermione blushed when vague snippets of the feelings from last night came back to her. The long fingers and the soft kisses that trailed her neck. 

“What would it feel like… with Fleur?”  She quickly covered her face with her palms. Her blush became uncontrollable that made her a bit dizzy yet again, how could she be thinking about sex when the woman she thought she wanted to do it with was just in the other room? Besides _ it  _ was out of the question anyway since she doesn't want to ruin a relationship; especially Fleur's relationship with Bellatrix. It would be just plain sick and wrong and she couldn’t picture herself doing so. She sighed. _ It’s not something to ponder about Hermione. _

“Hermione? I’m coming in!” 

_ Wait, what? _ Hermione had come back to her senses but it was too late. Fleur opened the door. It went all so very fast that she didn’t have time to react. Fleur, the woman she was thinking about having sex with, was now seeing her in all her glory. Uncensored. 

“I-.... Um” Fleur blushed a deep crimson red that parallelled Hermione’s. Hermione quickly turned around and covered herself up. She couldn’t think straight right now and Fleur was making it so damn hard for herself to not try and seduce the accountant. The sensations from last night’s endeavour was still in her system and she wanted to experience it all over again. This time with the French goddess in front of her. 

Fleur on the other hand was speechless. She was seeing all of Hermione for the first time and it didn’t help that the two of them had grown closer since the college student had lived with her. She felt like she had a wife who makes really good coffee and breakfast that made her day brighter. The only problem was her ‘wife' was off limits and she’s trying to be civil for the sake of hers and Rowena’s friendship. So, in this situation the only logical and plausible action is to turn around and apologize and forget everything, but why was it so hard to do and resist the urges she’s feeling right now? 

_ Hermione is just one stride away. _

_ No. You’ve got to be the adult.   _

Fleur looked away. “I’m sorry for barging in. I… I’ll be down stairs if you need me” she said quickly, she turned around and closed the door silently. Fleur released the breath she didn't know she was holding as soon as she heard the door clicked. 

“It’s because Bellatrix placed it all in my head. Sexually frustrated. Hmp.” she muttered dejectedly. She sighed for the second time that morning. “What a morning indeed”

 

* * *

Hermione could still hear her heart thumping loudly on her eardrums. Her body still feeling an intense heat. She would’ve jumped Fleur then and there. But she was glad she held herself, even though just barely. 

“God damn it” she muttered under her breath and went back into the shower to cool herself off. After five minutes, she felt relieved and went out completely of the white walled sanctuary. She grab her favourite sweater and jeans. Put them on. She left her hair in a messy bun, quickly grabbing her book bag soon after before heading downstairs. 

The coffee and the freshly cooked bacons reached her nostrils. She had no idea she was that hungry and it somehow gave her a soothing feeling that she had compelled herself to sit down at the breakfast table. Fleur smiled at her momentarily and went back into reading the morning paper. Hermione couldn’t help feeling the tension, or was it all her? She bit her lip. She knew there was frustration and lots of it ever since that incident in the bathroom, she knew Fleur was into women but she just doesn’t know if Fleur was into her. Maybe at one point but what about now? 

Hermione sighed inside. 

Her head turned as she heard the door open and Fleur’s dogs started to bark. The all familiar voice startled Hermione that she almost spilled the coffee she was about to sip. 

Bellatrix went over to them, her usual smirk in place. 

“Well, last night was pretty awesome, brat. I’m hands down to your partying” 

Hermione blushed, she had remembered bits and pieces of their drinking contest and that she had definitely won over Bellatrix, though not so elegantly which caused her to hide behind her cup. “You’re the one who was the wildest, mind you”

Bellatrix laughed “You do know our usual club right? I brought that brat there ”

“So that’s where you both went! I was beginning to worry when Hermione turned up this morning all drunk” Fleur commented. Then she turned to Bellatrix, eyes hardened “You should, next time, give me complete details! I’ve almost called the police when you just texted, ‘Kidnapped Hermione’. _Décidément!_ ”

“I barely remembered texting you, be glad I did!” she laughed. Fleur shook her head in mere disappointment.  She knew Bellatrix was down at the dumps yesterday after their meeting with her grandfather. It almost went smoothly but there were still bumpy agreements. She looked at Bellatrix once more, in her hands was the ring they both knew was fake. She then tried to catch a glimpse on the chain hanging on her neck. Then she sighed. Agreeing to Bellatrix was one thing she haven’t predicted in their years of friendship and now she was caught up in it. It was now a choice between friendship and romance. She then looked at Hermione, then sighed heavily into her coffee. Well, at least, she knew a thing with Rowena’s niece would be impossible. But she can’t help feeling so down, so hurt that she can’t even just touch her.  _ I should stop listening to Bellatrix… I can’t feel this way about her. It’s wrong. But it feels so right. _

She clutched the chain tightly in her hands. Hoping, wishing, this would just vanish out of thin air. That Hermione wasn’t Rowena’s beloved niece, that, she hoped they were just strangers at Charles and come to a budding romance. She just wished. Wished on an empty hope.

“Fleur, are you listening?” Bellatrix waved. 

Hermione looked at her with concern, but quickly dismissed it behind her cup of coffee. Fleur looked up at Bellatrix with her clear blue eyes and a smile. “Of course I was you dolt” she chuckled. “You’re planning for an outing back at the villa?” 

Bellatrix nodded slowly, “Yeh?” said the goth. “I intend to bring your little brat with me” 

The accountant turned to Hermione. “Don’t you have classes on that day?”

“No, I don’t have one. I’d be our term break by that time” replied the brunette. Fleur hummed into her coffee. Assessing the conversation in her head. 

“Well if… you’re okay with that? I guess it’s fine” 

“You, plan your leave then” said Bellatrix. 

“Me?” 

“Yes you! And bring Willam and Tonks too”

“I can’t just bring Willam, mind you, he is my boss-”

Bellatrix fished out her phone and Fleur could hear the ringing from it. “Who are you callin-”

Bellatrix motioned to shush her, and Fleur complied and went back to munching on her toast. She waited until Bellatrix had finished the call and jabbed the phone back into her jeans. Fleur looked up and saw the goth’s smiling lips. Dark with mischief and victory. 

“They said yes, haven’t they?”

“Well, they do owe me some lovin’ darlin’” she winked. Fleur sighed bobbing her head with disappointment. 

 

* * *

 

The weekend came really quick for Fleur’s liking. 

She sat on the front passenger side, while Bellatrix sat beside Hermione to her distaste. Why to her distaste? Because she’s been feeling something that she should not be feeling. She watched from the rear view mirror for every interaction her friend was doing with Hermione. Those little touches and unbearable flirting. 

Yes. She knows that Bellatrix is like that. But, she can’t help feeling that there was something off or more from that day when they both came back drunk.

William looked at Fleur, worried.

“You’re sighing too much, Fleur” he spoke, with just a quick glance as he was driving them. Fleur hummed in response. William noted that she did not even understood his question.

After a while, realizing that the question was addressed to her.“Oh, am I?” Bill nodded shortly, turning to the next corner, now off road from the main highway.

They both spoke quietly. “You do know that I’ve known you better, since we dated.” He said with a little cringe.

“Did you distaste dating me that much that you cringe whenever you remember that?” She chuckled. 

William smiled softly, “ You do know that I didn’t know I was gay then” he said, “and now, looking back at those times… sheesh!” 

“Ha.ha. Funny, you didn’t even like our kisses then? You were so into it that we’ve done it, well almost” she took back the idea.

“Oh dear, please don’t remind me of that ridiculously embarrassing moment” and he laughed heartily.  “I know that’s bothering you” he pointed the rear view mirror with his gaze.

“No, it’s not...”

“Tell me I am wrong if you haven’t looked at it for the past few hours we were driving” 

“I’m not, I promise” she dismissed. Bill shrugged her off and decided to drop the topic. He looked at her one last time with worry before focusing on the road.

William was right and Fleur knows it. She knew that Bellatrix, being so close to Hermione was bothering her. And she’s not supposed to feel anything against her friend at all. She knew that this is just the way Bellatrix are with all of their friends. But why was there this tingling and uncomfortable feeling resting in the bottom of her stomach? 

 

* * *

“What's with that glum face you git?” Bellatrix slurped her smoothie as she gave her blonde friend a raised brow. 

Amidst the sunny and glaring light of the sun, Fleur could definitely see her best friend questioning brow. She watched her glass looking at how the water trickled down the cup like a masterpiece in the making.  After a daze while, she took her cup of smoothie and slurped the strawberry flavored confectionery. She hummed deeply and then gave another sigh.

Bellatrix rubbed her forehead as a repercussion to Fleur's unexplained mood. 

It was really odd for the young accountant to have a gloomy face like this in a very sunny day. The shocking fact in all this was they were currently in their monthly outing with their 'snobby' friends –  Bellatrix would describe. Heck! this was one of the days Fleur looked forward to every month. This outing as Fleur would say 'purges' the homesickness out of her. 

Now the black gothic styled woman could only wonder what happened. It look liked their roles were reversed that day. Which was uncommon. And always, as far as Bellatrix could remember, Fleur would scold her for having even just the tiniest frown in her face during this outing. But this! Bellatrix sarcastically laughed in her head.

“You’re awful, you know that” she said with a tsk.

“What do you mean by that?” Fleur looked up her friend with a venomous stare. Bellatrix shrugged the intent of the look and continued. “You’re one hell of a hypocrite you know” she slurped on her already empty cup. She pointed the straw to her friend, and rolled her eyes “You’re frown could use an eraser right now” 

Fleur looked at her perplexed.

“Really?” frustrated, the woman raised her hand and brought it down with an exasperated sigh. “What the hell is your problem you git? You don’t sulk around and I not to mind it since you’ve minded my sulking like a hawk when we’re travelling like this! Look at those two bastards” She pointed to their friends swimming and lounging by the sea laughing. “they look happy and you sure don’t”

The blonde accountant rubbed her temples, surely Bellatrix’s point came across her and the petty problems she’s thinking should just be pushed behind her mind. She would just worry about it later. Decided, she gave her fuming friend a crooked smile “I’m sorry, but I assure you, it’s nothing”  the blonde french continued on slurping her strawberry beverage and looked out to their friends and waved back as soon as they saw her.

Though, it came from Fleur’s mouth. Bellatrix wasn’t convinced. If this small thing passed by her without notice what kind of a friend would she be? What would five years of friendship mean? Then it hit her, though not so hard, she smirked. She had a feeling it was because of this and boy will she have lots of fun with this.

“It’s that brat, isn’t it” Bellatrix smiled smugly. 

The blonde looked away at the mere mention of the description, a cute frown gracing her perfectly sculpted lip. Oh yes, Bellatrix was liking this. This was the rarest times her friend was like this. And this was going to be a priceless blackmail. So all she had to do now was spill. She walked around her friend’s chair and leaned back on Fleur’s back making the blonde swoop lower than necessary towards the table. The blonde started to protest rather violently, curses in french flying from her mouth. Bellatrix on the other hands, did not heed mind and continued tormenting her best friend. 

“So let me guess – ”

“You don’t have to guess anything because nothing happened” she said firmly, pushing herself away from being squished between the table and the unbelievably heavy weight of her friend. 

“Hermione went back with that boy hasn’t she”

Fleur abruptly stopped the struggle and tried to look up Bellatrix. Had her ears deceive her or maybe it was just something Bellatrix wanted to pull off.  Then Bellatrix laughed hard. “That seemed to stop you” she said in between laugh.

“No, she hasn’t. She’s still mad at the boy for just being him”

“Why? Does it affect you too much? What happened to not messing with Rowena’s niece? Have you forgotten what we have talked about the other day?” she continued. Fleur opened and closed her mouth, trying to protest but she knew the raven head had a point and a very strong one. She sighed and Bellatrix took that as a queue to stand down and stop the harassment. “It’s just she’d been distant again, after two months of having good times it seemed to change the week before we had this outing”

Bellatrix raised a brow. Now this was intriguing. What could’ve caused that? “What do you mean? I see you everyday together and nothing seems to change”

“There has, you know it’s the little stuffs that matters...” She watched Hermione momentarily from the distance as she wadded the waters with Bill and Tonks.

“You should talk to her you know” Bellatrix said quietly. She gave Fleur a short smile and went walked back towards the group. Fleur watched the raven head as she grabbed the brunette by the neck and dragged her deep into the water in a fit of laughter. They looked like they’re having a lot of fun, and she saw it was because of Bellatrix. Fleur sighed and went back to reading the book left forgotten on the sand. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
